ness which the baronet did not foresee, and immediately took flight, pulling the door after her with a violence which, though caused by haste, the young gentleman failed not to attribute to displeasure.

Almost at the same moment, Henrietta walked calmly to the other end of the room, and, sitting down at a table which stood in the bow window, took up her needle, and began to work.

In the mean time, Sir Thomas, being startled by the slamming of the door in his face, shrugged up his shoulders, and, looking towards Henrietta, he said, “Upon my honour, Miss Vaughen, you have a dignity of air and of manner which is totally independent of circumstances."

"That is not dignity, Sir Thomas," replied Henrietta, calmly, but sweetly, "which depends on externals; and therefore it is perhaps necessary for persons to be deprived of all outward circumstances of pomp, before we can decide upon the real nobility of their minds."

Sir Thomas (coxcomb as he was) seemed awed by her manner, and by this remark. He followed her to the table, and, sitting down not very far from her, he took up her scissors, and began cutting a piece of thread to atoms, while he stammered out a kind of apology for his behaviour, saying, “Now I see, Miss Vaughen, that you are offended, and that I have vexed your lovely sister; and, upon my honour, I do declare I never intended it—Í assure you I did not, not in the least, nothing could be further from my thoughts: for, of all men in the world, I respect your father; and as to your mother and yourselves, I don't know any ladies on the face of the earth of whom I think better."

Henrietta mildly replied, "I have always believed you, Sir Thomas, to be a sincere friend of my parents; I therefore cannot suppose that you meant to offend us, or to make us feel the slight inconveniences of our present situation more than is necessary. I know that it is the intention of my father to explain to you, as to a friend, the circumstances which have led him to retrench his manner of living, which he rather chose to do than to be a burden on his friends. We hope, indeed, that it may not be necessary for us to observe this rigid economy for many years; but, be the time short or long, I feel my

self perfectly reconciled to the measure, and only regret it on account of my parents, who can no longer associate with those persons to whose society they have been accustomed."

Sir Thomas stammered out that he already knew and applauded Mr. Vaughen's motives of conduct.

Henrietta, in reply, remarked, that she felt assured that no one could respect her father the less for his cheerful submission to the divine will; and she added, that she had great pleasure in knowing that his own peace was greatly promoted by the plans which he had adopted.

The baronet muttered something about great sacrifices and strength of mind, &c. &c. and added, that he believed there were few men of Mr. Vaughen's family and rank who could have brought their minds to make such a sacrifice.

Henrietta could have said that she did not see any thing so remarkable in the sacrifice; for it appeared to her pious and simple mind that it was incomparably preferable to live in a clean and cheerful kitchen for a few years, than to be constantly under the axes and harrows of perplexing cares. She had, however, discernment enough to perceive that Sir Thomas could not understand any sentiment of this kind; and she therefore dropped the subject, and entered upon others of a more commonplace character, with which conversation Sir Thomas seemed to be so well pleased, that he lingered till her parents' return.

Thus did this amiable young lady, by her forbearance and address, a second time disarm the malice of the world, and sustain that dignity which a more petulant conduct would have infallibly overthrown.

As soon as Henrietta could make her escape, she flew to her beloved Emmeline, whom she found weeping violently in her own room. She sat down by her, kissed her, and said, "My beloved sister, why do you weep? why do you thus afflict yourself? Had you been found doing any thing that was either disgraceful in itself, or decidedly out of your line of duty, there would have been some reason for tears; or had you been surprised in a slovenly dress, when engaged in the way of duty, there would have been a more just occasion for shame: but, as

neither the one nor the other was the case, wherefore is there any reason either for blushes or tears?"

"But I know," said Emmeline, sobbing, "I know, by Sir Thomas's manner, that he despised me, when he saw me with a coloured apron on, and my hands all covered with flour. Did you not remark his altered and forward manner? Did we ever experience such familiar treatment from him when we received him in our parlour and appeared like ladies ?”

“I did observe his manner," said Henrietta, “and I disapproved of it. But why should you blush for the want of courtesy and delicacy?"

"I expected that it would be so," said Emmeline. dreaded his coming."

“I

"Then you entertained a much worse opinion of Sir Thomas than I did, Emmeline; and I therefore wonder that this affair should have affected you, who have met only with what you foresaw, more than it did me, who have seen a fault in a neighbour which I did not expect to find."

"But I thought," said Emmeline, "I thought-I fancied-I had some idea, that-that-he had some regard for me."

"Regard for you, Emmeline!" said Henrietta: "then it is perhaps happy that you are so soon undeceived."

"O," said Emmeline, "I did not mean that I supposed that he really liked me: you know what I mean-only that he respected me. I did suppose he respected me."

"If respect is all that you expected from him,” said Henrietta, "you will have it still, my Emmeline: no man will or can despise the dutiful daughter who submits cheerfully to her father's will."

Emmeline sighed. She had indulged other views in reference to Sir Thomas which she had hardly acknowledged to herself; and they were now, as she thought, destroyed by the hard necessity to which she found herself reduced, of living in a kitchen. She was consequently, very unhappy: and thus we are always punished, whenever we allow our wishes to outrun our circumstances, and permit our desires to exceed the will of the Almighty.

Henrietta saw, by her sister's extreme grief, that more

was passing in her mind than she had at first been aware of. She therefore spoke no more of Sir Thomas; but animadverted, in general terms, on the duty of submitting to the divine will, and on the peace which instantly follows, when the mind is brought, through the influence of the Holy Spirit, to that state of contentment which never desires any thing beyond that which the Lord bestows, be it much or be it little. She then adverted to a late discourse of her father's upon the tenth commandment, where he showed the spiritual nature of that commandment, pointing out its reference to the inmost thoughts of the heart, and the prohibition under which it lays the imagination from ever wandering after earthly goods which are not lawful objects of our desires. Much more she added on this subject, and that with so much sweetness and gentleness, that her sister insensibly became soothed, and assured her that she would endeavour to appear before her parents at dinner with her accustomed cheerfulness.

Emmeline accordingly arose, and, having bathed her eyes, went out into her garden to attend her flowers and bees, in which interesting occupation she soon lost all recollection of Sir Thomas, or only thought with gratitude of the circumstances by which her eyes had been so soon opened to his real intentions respecting her.

The next day was Sunday. Mrs. Vaughen, being ill, staid at home with her daughter Emmeline, and Henrietta accompanied her father to church. The morning was fine; but it was one of those days in spring when frequent showers drive the traveller to take shelter under some friendly tree, and when the sun is een shining in all his glory on one side of a hill while the rain is beating on another.

In consequence of these fluctuations of the weather, the congregation was detained in the church-porch for some time after divine service, and Henrietta was during a considerable time standing near the Dowager Lady Freeman, the mother of Sir Thomas, and Mrs. Smith. These ladies were busily engaged in conversation with each other on the subject of a grand dinner which was to be given the following day at Stanbrook Court, and Henrietta supposed that she was not observed by them. VOL. V.

D

She accordingly stood quite still, till, perceiving that the eyes of both ladies were directed towards her, she courtseyed, and was going to speak, when they both nodded carelessly, as to an inferior, and then, turning away from her, they proceeded with their conversation.

Henrietta coloured, but, instantly recovering herself, stood composedly till Lady Freeman's carriage drew up to the porch, and the two ladies departed together. Henrietta then, by their removal, found herself standing next to a widow, who, with her only son, had just taken a farm in the parish, and whom she had never seen till that day, as this was the stranger's first appearance at church.

This widow was still in weeds; and the sorrowful, yet pious resignation of her countenance instantly attracted the attention and admiration of Miss Vaughen. She was leaning on the arm of her son, a fine young man, of an amiable aspect, who was also in deep mourning.

As Henrietta had never been introduced to these persons, she knew that it would have been improper to speak first, and therefore she remained silent, till her father, coming out of the interior part of the church, in which he had hitherto been engaged by a christening, addressed the widow and her son with his usual ease and courtesy, and introduced his daughter to the mother.

A friendly conversation was immediately commenced between Mr. Vaughen and this lady, whose name was Etherington; and, as the rain still continued, there was opportunity for them to discourse on various subjects.— Mr. Vaughen asked the widow how she liked her farm, and expatiated on the beauty of its situation amid woods and waterfalls.

Her answer was full of piety, and expressed her desire to be willingly content in whatever situation it might please the Lord to appoint her lot. She then spoke of religion as her chief delight, and added, that the Almighty had been especially merciful to her in sparing her son to to be the prop and comfort of her age.

Mr. Vaughen, on hearing this, turned to the young man, offered him his friendship, and asked him whether he had time for reading: "and if so," added he, “any book in my possession is at your service."

By this time the rain had ceased, and the party began