In a short time Anna was quite reconciled to her situation, and no longer thought any place her home but Rosewood; and Mrs. Meridith, after the indulgence of a few weeks' holidays, began the plan of education she had proposed for her own children, had she not been deprived of them. But though she wished Anna should know every thing necessary to adorn the station in life she intended her to fill, she was equally anxious that she should not pride herself upon it. The little girl had already learnt her letters, and could spell a few words, and for the first two or three years of her being Mrs. Meridith's child, that lady was her only instructress. Anna was allowed to take a great deal of exercise, and her cousins were not more expert in running, driving the hoop, and such amusements than herself. All the old men who worked in the gardens rejoiced at her good fortune; they remembered her mother, and had often pitied her fate.

"Now," said they, "we wish she could see how well her child is provided for: she deserved a better husband, for there was not a prettier, nor a more industrious, clean, neat girl in all the parish; and so kind-hearted."

"Ah!" replied another, "I remember when she was but a little thing, how she came to see my poor Nancy that was ill, and cried over her, and brought her every thing which she thought she could eat! and when she died"—here the poor old man wiped a tear from his eye and could say no more. In short Anna was caressed by all the inhabitants of the village not only on her mother's account, but on Mrs. Meridith's also, who was pleased at every attention paid her "adopted daughter."

Who then can wonder that our young heroine should begin to think herself of more consequence than she really was? and that her little head was nearly turned with the notice which was always taken of her? And here it would be well if many children, who find themselves objects of attention to their friends, would consider that it is not for any thing extraordinary in themselves; or any particular merit, or talents which they possess; but for the sake of their parents, or because of some misfortune, perhaps, which is attached to them, those who are good and benevolent are inclined to notice them; how foolish then to grow proud of themselves on such an account! they ought to be obliged to the kind friends who thus favour them, and endeavour to repay their kindness by attention; but it is a proof of their folly to value themselves on what arises from others, and not from themselves.

Mrs. Meridith had new clothes of every kind made for Anna; and though she drest remarkably plain herself, and Anna had never been used to see any other, the exchanging her coloured frocks for more white ones gratified her vanity, and she could not help shewing them to her cousins when they came to visit her.

"I wish Mamma would give you a new suit of clothes," said she to William, "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 think you are more so in that white frock than in a coloured one; you don't enjoy a game of play so well, for fear you should tear it."

"I don't consider that," returned Anna; "I have plenty more in the drawer; 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 in the coloured ones you used to wear, and eat and drink as well; and sleep as well when you went to bed, so that I don't see any difference in them."

Mrs. Meridith overheard this conversation as she was walking in the garden, and sighed lest she should not find her protÉgÉe, who was now about seven years old, all she wished her. She took no notice of what she had heard, but the next time Anna tore her frock, which was not long after, she called her in, and desired her to mend it.

"Bella will do that," replied Anna with a thoughtless air, "she does it so well, that you won't see where the rent was."

"But Bella has something else to do," replied Mrs. Meridith, "cannot you do 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 would think," said she, "that this little girl had been bred in India, where she had slaves at her command, rather than in a farm-house, for the first four years of her life: I must alter my plan with her, she will expect too much and be disappointed,—as I shall be," thought she, and another sigh escaped her. Anna watched her countenance, and saw sorrow expressed in it, and her own instantly bore traces of the same.

"What is the matter, dear Mamma?" said she, "are you sorry that I have torn 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 thus addressed her.

"It is not that I am sorry for the frock, my dear, but that you appear so little sensible of the trouble you give, when you are so repeatedly tearing your clothes: if you considered others you would be sorry Bella should be forced to work for you; her eyes are not good, and she is getting old; and because she is kind and would do any thing for you, you seem 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 so unkindly to her before.

"You shall try at it," said that lady; "and it may be you will then find out the trouble it is to other people; you are now seven years old, and had you continued with Mrs. Campbell, would most likely have been better able to do it than you are now." The tears stood in Anna's eyes, and for the first time she almost wished herself again there; but she took out a needle and thread from her work-bag, and began the task she was quite unaccustomed to. Already the rent appeared ten times larger than it did before; she looked at it each way, and began to think her Mamma was right in saying she would now know the trouble of it; but still her pride 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 ask Bella to begin it for me, Mamma? it is impossible I should know how to do 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 a more 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 to see 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 to bring it to her, and began the darning, which she returned into Anna's hand; well knowing that she could never finish it for it to be worn any more; but the frock was of little value in Mrs. Meridith's opinion, if Anna might be taught a lesson of humility by it. She continued her own work, and Anna set a few stitches, but very different from the pattern set her, and often did she turn her eyes to the window hoping to see either her uncle or cousins coming up the lawn, which she hoped would put 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 a proper way, she made her sit down by her, saying, she feared her eyes were directed more to the window than her work. Anna could scarcely suppress her tears; yet once more made the attempt to finish the work, and was as unsuccessful as before, though Mrs. Meridith directed her each time where to put her needle.

"Are you convinced now," said she, "of the trouble you give Bella every time you tear your clothes?"

"Yes, dear Mamma," replied Anna, bursting into tears, and hiding her face in her lap, "and I am very sorry for it."

"That is enough, my dear child, promise me that you will be more careful, and more thankful to those who do any thing for you."

"I will, indeed," replied Anna, venturing to raise her eyes, and longing to be reconciled to her kind friend, who soon gave her the consolatory kiss, and then once more addressing her, she said:—

"I should regret my ever taking you to be my child, my dear Anna, if I spoilt you; I would wish you to know that I once had children of my own, whom I did not love better than I do you; but I took you to be my child, because I lost them, and because your grandmother was a kind nurse to me when I was a baby, and I knew your mother when she was a little girl, but more because you were unfortunate, and had lost your parents, though they were well supplied to you by your uncle and aunt." Anna's mingled feelings of regret, confusion, and gratitude, would not permit her to speak, but she looked with the most expressive earnestness at her friend, who thus continued:

"I am now your mother and wish to make you happy, but it must be by adding to the happiness of others, not taking from it." Anna's tears now flowed afresh; and she threw her arms round Mrs. Meridith's neck.

"Oh, I hope I shall be a good girl, and deserve your kindness," said she: "indeed I have nothing to be proud of, but I have given Bella a great deal of trouble, and you, my dear Mamma, and thought nothing of it; pray forgive me."

Mrs. Meridith re-assured her of her forgiveness, and only hoped the foregoing scene might be impressed on her memory, and prevent her thinking so highly of herself another time; and she then proposed their walking to the farm together.