The Adopted Daughter: A Tale for Young Persons by Amanda M. Douglas
CHAPTER III.
In a short time Anna was quite reconciled to her situation, and nolonger thought any place her home but Rosewood; and Mrs. Meridith, afterthe indulgence of a few weeks' holidays, began the plan of education shehad proposed for her own children, had she not been deprived of them.But though she wished Anna should know every thing necessary to adornthe station in life she intended her to fill, she was equally anxiousthat she should not pride herself upon it. The little girl had alreadylearnt her letters, and could spell a few words, and for the first twoor three years of her being Mrs. Meridith's child, that lady was heronly instructress. Anna was allowed to take a great deal of exercise,and her cousins were not more expert in running, driving the hoop, andsuch amusements than herself. All the old men who worked in the gardensrejoiced at her good fortune; they remembered her mother, and had oftenpitied her fate.
"Now," said they, "we wish she could see how well her child is providedfor: she deserved a better husband, for there was not a prettier,nor a more industrious, clean, neat girl in all the parish; and sokind-hearted."
"Ah!" replied another, "I remember when she was but a little thing, howshe came to see my poor Nancy that was ill, and cried over her, andbrought her every thing which she thought she could eat! and when shedied"--here the poor old man wiped a tear from his eye and could say nomore. In short Anna was caressed by all the inhabitants of the villagenot only on her mother's account, but on Mrs. Meridith's also, who waspleased at every attention paid her "adopted daughter."
Who then can wonder that our young heroine should begin to think herselfof more consequence than she really was? and that her little head wasnearly turned with the notice which was always taken of her? And hereit would be well if many children, who find themselves objects ofattention to their friends, would consider that it is not for any thingextraordinary in themselves; or any particular merit, or talents whichthey possess; but for the sake of their parents, or because of somemisfortune, perhaps, which is attached to them, those who are good andbenevolent are inclined to notice them; how foolish then to grow proudof themselves on such an account! they ought to be obliged to the kindfriends who thus favour them, and endeavour to repay their kindness byattention; but it is a proof of their folly to value themselves on whatarises from others, and not from themselves.
Mrs. Meridith had new clothes of every kind made for Anna; and thoughshe drest remarkably plain herself, and Anna had never been used tosee any other, the exchanging her coloured frocks for more white onesgratified her vanity, and she could not help shewing them to her cousinswhen they came to visit her.
"I wish Mamma would give you a new suit of clothes," said she toWilliam, "how well you would look if you had more buttons."
"Nonsense," replied William, who had imbibed all his father's notions;"What for? these clothes keep me warm, and they are whole in every part;and should I be happier if I had more buttons on my coat? I don't thinkyou are more so in that white frock than in a coloured one; you don'tenjoy a game of play so well, for fear you should tear it."
"I don't consider _that_," returned Anna; "I have plenty more in thedrawer; and Bella has nothing to do, but to mend it for me, and Mrs.Meridith would not be angry."
"Well, but still," said William, "I am sure you could play as well inthe coloured ones you used to wear, and eat and drink as well; and sleepas well when you went to bed, so that I don't see any difference inthem."
Mrs. Meridith overheard this conversation as she was walking in thegarden, and sighed lest she should not find her _protegee_, who was nowabout seven years old, all she wished her. She took no notice of whatshe had heard, but the next time Anna tore her frock, which was not longafter, she called her in, and desired her to mend it.
"Bella will do that," replied Anna with a thoughtless air, "she does itso well, that you won't see where the rent was."
"But Bella has something else to do," replied Mrs. Meridith, "cannot youdo it yourself? _You_ tore it."
Anna looked at her friend, as if doubting she had heard her plainly."Bella _always_ mends my things," said she.
Mrs. Meridith smiled, but it was accompanied by a sigh; "one wouldthink," said she, "that this little girl had been bred in India, whereshe had slaves at her command, rather than in a farm-house, for thefirst four years of her life: I must alter my plan with her, she willexpect too much and be disappointed,--as I shall be," thought she, andanother sigh escaped her. Anna watched her countenance, and saw sorrowexpressed in it, and her own instantly bore traces of the same.
"What is the matter, dear Mamma?" said she, "are you sorry that I havetorn my frock? if Bella is busy now, she can mend it another time,or if you wish it," continued she, "I will try if I can do it myself,but I never--" did darn, she would have added; when Mrs. Meridith thusaddressed her.
"It is not that I am sorry for the frock, my dear, but that you appearso little sensible of the trouble you give, when you are so repeatedlytearing your clothes: if you considered others you would be sorry Bellashould be forced to work for you; her eyes are not good, and she isgetting old; and because she is kind and would do any thing for you, youseem disposed to give her what trouble you can without any apology."
"I will mend it myself," said Anna, with a face reddening with shame,and no little anger, as she thought Mrs. Meridith had never spoken sounkindly to her before.
"You shall try at it," said that lady; "and it may be you will then findout the trouble it is to other people; you are now seven years old, andhad you continued with Mrs. Campbell, would most likely have been betterable to do it than you are now." The tears stood in Anna's eyes, andfor the first time she almost wished herself again there; but she tookout a needle and thread from her work-bag, and began the task she wasquite unaccustomed to. Already the rent appeared ten times larger thanit did before; she looked at it each way, and began to think her Mammawas right in saying she would now know the trouble of it; but still herpride prevailed, and she would not own she could not do it.
After holding it some time in her hand, she said, "may I go and askBella to begin it for me, Mamma? it is impossible I should know how todo that, but if it was once began I could go on with it."
"I have told you Bella is very busy," returned Mrs. Meridith.
"Will _you_ begin it for me then, Mamma?" said the little girl in amore humbled tone, and after she had pulled it backwards and forwards,and looked at it again and again.
"Yes; and do it too;" thought Mrs. Meridith, who could scarcely bear tosee her so distressed; "and kiss those frowns from your face if I dared;but your nature would not bear it." She therefore only desired her tobring it to her, and began the darning, which she returned into Anna'shand; well knowing that she could never finish it for it to be worn anymore; but the frock was of little value in Mrs. Meridith's opinion, ifAnna might be taught a lesson of humility by it. She continued her ownwork, and Anna set a few stitches, but very different from the patternset her, and often did she turn her eyes to the window hoping to seeeither her uncle or cousins coming up the lawn, which she hoped wouldput an end to the work.
"How do you get on with it?" asked Mrs. Meridith, "have you done half?"
"No," said Anna, "my cotton is so troublesome."
Mrs. Meridith again took it in her hand, and saying that would not do,she cut out all that Anna had done, and then putting it once more in aproper way, she made her sit down by her, saying, she feared her eyeswere directed more to the window than her work. Anna could scarcelysuppress her tears; yet once more made the attempt to finish the work,and was as unsuccessful as before, though Mrs. Meridith directed hereach time where to put her needle.
"Are you convinced now," said she, "of the trouble you give Bella everytime you tear your clothes?"
"Yes, dear Mamma," replied Anna, bursting into tears, and hiding herface in her lap, "and I am very sorry for it."
"That is enough, my dear child, promise me that you will be morecareful, and more thankful to those who do any thing for you."
"I should regret my ever taking you to be my child, my dear Anna, ifI spoilt you; I would wish you to know that I once had children of myown, whom I did not love better than I do _you_; but I took you tobe my child, because I lost them, and because your grandmother was akind nurse to me when I was a baby, and I knew your mother when shewas a little girl, but more because you were unfortunate, and had lostyour parents, though they were well supplied to you by your uncle andaunt." Anna's mingled feelings of regret, confusion, and gratitude,would not permit her to speak, but she looked with the most expressiveearnestness at her friend, who thus continued:
"_I_ am now your mother and wish to make you happy, but it must be byadding to the happiness of others, not taking from it." Anna's tears nowflowed afresh; and she threw her arms round Mrs. Meridith's neck.
"Oh, I hope I shall be a good girl, and deserve your kindness," saidshe: "indeed I have nothing to be proud of, but I have given Bella agreat deal of trouble, and you, my dear Mamma, and thought nothing ofit; pray forgive me."
Mrs. Meridith re-assured her of her forgiveness, and only hoped theforegoing scene might be impressed on her memory, and prevent herthinking so highly of herself another time; and she then proposed theirwalking to the farm together.