paid any purchase money: he had for some time viewed the notice Mrs. Meridith took of the family with a jealous eye, and much had been said by his wife and daughters of the increased consequence of farmer Campbell and his family, since the lady of the manor had done so much for them.

This last event did not take place till after Anna had been ten years with her kind patroness, whom she was now accustomed to look on as more than a mother, though often the circumstance of the torn frock was reverted to by her uncle, and he reminded her that it was the humanity of Mrs. Meridith, and not from any claim she had to her kindness, which had placed her in the situation she was.

As she was now arrived at the age of fourteen, the best masters the country afforded for music, French, and drawing, attended her; "and these," said her attentive uncle, "you ought to be assiduous in learning, that you may be able to amuse Mrs. Meridith as her age increases;" but Anna's attention to these accomplishments did not prevent her from paying the same to more domestic concerns.

"It may be," said Mrs. Meridith, "you may never wish to play, or sing, after your masters have left you; but you will always have a family to attend to."

As music was what Anna was particularly desirous of improvement in, and as she had a very good voice, her kind friend did not discourage her endeavours to advance in it; "but remember," said she, "that to add to the happiness of others, you must do something more than sing to them.—A song, or a concerto on the piano will not satisfy the calls of hunger, or still the pains of sickness; and the poor in the village will not thank you for sitting whole hours at your instrument, if it leads you to neglect them; and may you recollect my dear, that one chief reason, why I adopted you for my daughter, was that you should supply my place to the poor of Downash, when I am no longer here to assist them." Anna always heard her with tears upon this subject, and faithfully promised to regard her injunctions.

At this time she often walked among the villagers and listened to their wants, or rather their account of how they had been relieved; and the praises of good Mrs. Meridith: and when the purchase of the farms were made, she met with various congratulations.

"I am sure both your uncles were deserving of it," said one of their labourers, at whose house she called to know why his daughter was not at school the week before; "they are as good masters to work for as can be found in all the country, and we be all heartily glad that the farms are their own."

"Mrs. Meridith," replied Anna, "has given us all reason to rejoice that she came to live here; what has she not done for me?"

"Ah, dear Miss," returned the man, "now you speaks of that, your poor dear mother was deserving of it."

"It is all for her sake," answered Anna, "but did you know her?"

"Ah, and your father too, Miss, if he deserved to be called so, who could leave you as he did."

Anna sighed. "I wonder where he is," said she, not expecting the old man could inform her.

"Why some do say that he went for a sailor," returned he, "but I did hear a little while ago that some one see'd a man that had seen him about a twelvemonth before."

"You don't say so," returned Anna, with eagerness, half afraid yet anxious to hear more: "Who was it, and where was he?"

"Why I don't know for the truth of it, Miss," said he, "nor whereabouts it was he see'd him, but I thinks it was somewhere beyond sea; but it was at farmer Ward's my daughter heard it, and the reason, Ma'am, she h'an't been to school this week, is, she has been there, while their girl was gone home to see her mother."

"At farmer Ward's?" replied Anna, "I thought they would have had some of their own labourer's daughters."

"And so should I, Miss, but somehow Nancy Ward has taken a great fancy to my girl, so I let her go, as 'twas but for a little while; but I hopes to get her into your aunt's, Miss, when she wants a girl, and if you would be so good as to speak for her it would be doing a great kindness; she is very handy, and knows how to do a great many things. But here she comes, and Nancy Ward with her, I declare." Anna looked out and saw them coming towards the little wicket, she therefore would not leave the house till they entered it; and as it was at farmer Ward's that something had been heard of her father, she thought she might hear more of it from Nancy, whom, though she had not seen for some months, yet as children they were often together; but she was not aware of the difference Mrs. Meridith's late kindness to her uncles had made in her behaviour, as well as in that of her father.

"How do you do, Nancy?" said she, "I hope you are well? You are much grown since I saw you."

"And so are you, Miss," replied Nancy, with a saucy air; "and all your family I think,—the farmer Campbells are quite gentlemen now, and Miss Meridith, or Miss Campbell, or Miss Eastwood, or whatever name I may call you by, is quite a fine lady."

"Not more so than I was a few years ago, when you did not account me so," answered Anna, with rather a haughty air; but it was immediately humbled when the insolent girl proceeded, "according to the old proverb, set a beggar on horseback."

"A beggar!" returned Anna.

"Yes," said Nancy, "your father was one, or is one now; and it would be a good thing for him if he could come in for some of Mrs. Meridith's bounty."

"I believe," replied Anna, with some spirit, "that if he needed and deserved it, he would not have long to wait for it; but can you tell me where he is?"

"O dear no, Miss, I have no acquaintance with him, nor do I wish it: I only think that if he knew how generous Mrs. Meridith is to all who belong to you, he would soon be here to get a little out of her."

"Fye, Nancy, fye, I am ashamed of you," said the old man; "if you can't talk better than that, you should hold your tongue; you may be ashamed of yourself; can any one help the faults of their parents?"

"It is the first time," thought Anna, "that I have suffered for the faults of mine; till now every body pitied me for having such a father."

"Oh!" returned the girl, determined now to vent her spleen as she had began, "the poor little Anna Eastwood, or Campbell as she was called, is so proud since she has become Mrs. Meridith's daughter, that she ought to be told of what she was; she was only taken out of charity at first."

"I know it," replied Anna, with a dignified air; "and I am obliged to Mrs. Meridith for giving me such an education as has not disgraced that charity. If I am proud, I am sorry for it, for I well know I have nothing to be proud of; but I hope I shall never be insensible to the kindness of Mrs. Meridith, or my uncle and aunts; and as for what that lady has done for them, it was because their mother was her first friend; they wanted not her assistance, though they know how to value her friendship and condescension in noticing me as she has done; and there are other people who rejoice at it for my mother's sake.

"That we all do, Miss," said the old man; "and as for your being proud, no one thinks you so, any more than Mrs. Meridith herself; and it is a rare thing to see ladies like her with so little, and remember former kindnesses and friends as she does. I am sure old Mrs. Campbell