Agnes Merton was one day sitting in rather a melancholy mood on the swing in her garden, without swinging, and apparently lost in thought. It was a very odd place for meditation, but little girls do choose strange places sometimes; and Agnes at this moment felt very sad and uncomfortable on various accounts. Her papa had been in a bad state of health for some time, and Mrs. Merton’s attention had been so entirely occupied by him, that Agnes had been comparatively neglected by her mother. Her papa also could not be troubled with her, although he was very fond of her when he was well; sick people cannot bear the fatigue of children. Agnes had no sisters, and only a daily governess, who stayed with her but a short time, so that during the greater part of the day the poor child was left entirely to her own resources, and children so young as Agnes cannot always be reading. Agnes was at this time particularly unfortunate, as even her favourite cat, Sandy, had gone away about three weeks before, and nobody knew what had become of him. In this state of things every amusement seemed to have lost its zest, and after swinging a short time with the air of a person who was performing a task, rather than one who was enjoying a pleasure, Agnes sat, as we have before said, on her swing, apparently quite lost in thought, and, indeed, so absorbed that she started when her mother laid her hand upon her shoulder, and asked her if she would like to go to the Isle of Wight?

It is impossible to describe what a change these few words produced in the feelings of the little girl, and she replied with her countenance beaming with delight, “Oh yes, mamma, very much indeed!”

“Your papa,” resumed Mrs. Merton, “has been ordered to try change of air for the benefit of his health, and he has determined to go to the Isle of Wight for a week. At first he intended leaving you at home, but at my earnest desire he has consented to take you with us, upon condition of your giving no trouble.”

“Oh, mamma,” interrupted Agnes, “I will not give any trouble at all.”

“Perhaps you are hardly aware of what you are promising,” said Mrs. Merton, smiling; “your papa has determined on taking no servant with him, so that you must dress and undress yourself, and take care of your own clothes.”

“But, mamma,” said Agnes, “shall we not have poor little Susan?”

“No,” replied Mrs. Merton; “there will only be your papa, besides you and me: and as my time will be principally occupied in attending on him, you must contrive to take care of yourself.”

Agnes laughed; “I think I am quite old enough to do that,” said she.

“We shall see,” replied her mother. “You must also dine and take all your meals with us; as it will probably not be convenient for us to stay to take any refreshment at the time you have been used to dine.”

This, so far from being a hardship, Agnes thought the most delightful part of the whole, as she had long considered dining at six o’clock as one of the great desiderata of life; but Mrs. Merton continued: “You must also never complain of being hungry or thirsty; but act as much as possible as if you were really a woman, since we are going to treat you like one.”

“I am afraid, mamma,” said Agnes, “that will be very hard.”

“If you do not think you can undertake to do all I wish, you must stay at home; and I have no doubt your aunt Jane will be so kind as to take care of you while we are away. But I think you are quite capable of all that will be required of you. You are now ten years old, and you knew how to pack up a trunk when you were only seven. You shall have a pretty little black portmanteau entirely to yourself, and you shall have a list of everything that is put into it, so that you may know when all your things are right.”

Agnes was delighted with the idea of taking care of her own trunk; particularly as her mamma consented, at her earnest request, to leave the choice of what clothes she would take entirely to herself. Agnes was very fond of managing, and of giving directions to her maid, Susan, who was called immediately; for as this was Saturday, and they were to set out on Monday, there was no time to be lost. Susan was almost as much delighted as her little mistress with the task; and both felt of extraordinary importance when they found themselves alone with the open portmanteau before them, and close to the wardrobe from which it was to be filled. Both Susan and her young mistress were, however, soon very much puzzled to know what to decide on. Agnes at first had looked out nearly all the clothes she had, but it was soon found that the pretty little black portmanteau would not hold half the things that had been laid out. A fresh selection was therefore necessary, and several of the pretty frocks were put back into the drawer.

“Oh, I must have that, Susan,” said Agnes, stretching out her hands after her favourite blue, which was being taken away.

“Very well, miss,” said Susan. “Then suppose you take that, and leave this,” laying down the blue and taking up an equally favourite pale pink.

“Oh no,” cried Agnes; “I must have that, it is so prettily made.”

“Suppose you take all your coloured frocks,” said Susan, “and leave your white ones?”

“But, mamma says she always likes me best in white,” said Agnes.

“Well, then, we will take the whites,” said Susan, “and leave the coloured ones.”

Agnes sighed deeply. “Oh dear,” cried she, after a short pause; “I wish mamma were here to decide for me. I thought it would be so delightful to have everything my own way, but now the time is come I do not like it at all. I see it saves a great deal of trouble to have some one to direct, and to tell one what to do. I am sure I wish mamma would come and tell me, for I am quite tired of being my own mistress;” and as she spoke Mrs. Merton entered the room; for she had been in an adjoining apartment, and, overhearing the wishes of her little daughter, had come to her assistance. Under Mrs. Merton’s directions the box was soon packed, and Agnes was astonished to see how rapidly her difficulties had vanished.

“I cannot think how it is, mamma,” said she, “that you have been able to arrange in a moment what gave me so much trouble and vexation. You have done everything just as I wished, and as I would have done it myself, if I could have made up my mind; and yet my governess often tells me that I am self-willed, and like to have my own way; now, it appears to me that I actually did not know what my own way was, till you came and showed me.”

“The reason you had so much difficulty in deciding,” said Mrs. Merton, “was that your judgment required to be guided by experience, a quality in which young people are necessarily deficient. When you are as old as I am, and have travelled as much, you will be able to decide as rapidly as I did in this matter; as you will know by experience what things are likely to be most useful.”