When Anna related what had passed at the old man's cottage to Mrs. Meridith, that lady said, "I am glad you answered her as you did, for to return anger for anger is never of any use; and if she intended to mortify you, she will find she has lost her aim."

"No," replied Anna, with a dejected air; "for she has mortified me greatly, by telling me my father was a beggar; sure he was not so low as that, or my mother would not have married him?"

"He professed to be a gentleman," said Mrs. Meridith, "as your uncle has told me, and that he was by no means an uneducated man; and his manners were very prepossessing, but he was little known in this neighbourhood till your mother married him."

"And where could she meet with him?" asked Anna, "I thought she knew nobody out of this village."

"But little of the world," said Mrs. Meridith, "or she would not have been taken with his specious appearance; but when about eighteen, she went to return a visit she had received from a young friend at the next town, and there she first knew him; he apprehended her to have more money than she really had, I suppose, and she was handsome, and agreeable, and perhaps at that time he did feel attached to her; it was evident she was pleased with him, and he gained her regard by following her home and making proposals to her father, who did not altogether approve of it; so your uncle says, but he saw her attachment, and therefore complied; a small house was taken for them in the village, and I believe he was to have part of your grandfather's farm, who promised to assist and instruct him in cultivating it; but he soon discovered himself unworthy of so good a wife; and at length she died; and you know the rest."

"My poor mother," said Anna, "how happy should I have been had you lived to have afforded you some comfort! But I am ungrateful to you, my dear mamma, in not saying I am happy now; and you have had your sorrows also; oh! may I be a comfort to you!"

"True, indeed, my Anna," returned Mrs. Meridith, "I have had my sorrows, and deeply have I felt them!"

Anna had never heard more than that her kind benefactress and friend had lost an affectionate husband, and three children; and she forbore now, as on former occasions, to ask by what circumstances; yet her looks strongly indicated her desire of hearing a more particular account of them; and Mrs. Meridith, reading her wishes in her countenance, told her that the next evening her uncle and aunt were with them, she would endeavour to relate them, if she found the recollection not too painful.

"In the mean time," said she, "I am thinking of farmer Ward; it is clear that he and his family are jealous of my attachment to your uncle and aunt, but they do not consider that gratitude, and an early acquaintance has caused me to notice them more than others; besides there is such an upright integrity in your uncle, so free from any of the fulsome flattery I have met with, and so much unaffected intelligence, that his company is agreeable to me: and your aunt's likewise, who is a sensible, well-informed woman, and our sentiments agree: she knows what the world is from theory, I from experience; and I scruple not to say, I find them both pleasant companions. But it is not likely farmer Ward and his wife would be so; they were I know very differently brought up, and though very honest, industrious people, would despise any other conversation than that which related to their farm and its occupations; but I do not ridicule them for this, I thought they were happy and satisfied; at least they were so, till Envy reared her snaky head."

"Well, indeed," said Anna, interrupting her, "may Envy be thus represented surrounded by snakes, for she is extending her malice to every one she can reach, and instigating all in her power to do the same.

"It is Medusa, one of the three Gorgons, whose hair Minerva changed into snakes for polluting her temple, who is thus represented," said Mrs. Meridith; "but there is in one of the poets a very striking picture of Envy, describing her as eating her own bowels; if I am not mistaken, it is in Spenser's Fairy Queen, we will look this evening: but to return to farmer Ward, I tell you what I mean to do respecting him, because I hope hereafter (if you find no ill effect arising from it) you will do the same."

"Oh, mamma! could I but hope to do as you have done!"

"No flattery, my dear Anna," said Mrs. Meridith, smiling, "what I have done may be done by any one who has the means in their power so amply as I have; and if your means are lessened, your sphere of action will be so likewise. I thought that I shewed no distinction between the two farmers, except that I considered one as my friend; but I endeavoured to be impartial in what was done for them as tenants; though I have sold one farm and not the other, yet if farmer Ward wishes to buy his farm, he shall have it on the same terms as your uncle had his."

At this moment Anna would have said, "is not this rewarding farmer Wood for his malevolence to my uncle and me?" had she not recollected that in every thing Mrs. Meridith knew best: but the change in her countenance was not unnoticed by her kind friend, who said, "it is better to stop the mouth of envy by acts of kindness, than by returning their resentment; I should rather say, to endeavour to do it, for though our intention may be good, their animosity may prevent its having the desired effect."

Mrs. Meridith, therefore, took the first opportunity of asking farmer Ward, when he came to pay his rent, if he would like to purchase his farm?

"Oh Madam!" said he (malice still perceivable in the expression, though the kindness of her manners had seemed to soften his), "I have not so much money as my neighbour Campbell; I am not able to purchase it."

"I believe your land is of the same value as his," returned Mrs. Meridith, "and you have both made it more valuable by your care and cultivation; you have, therefore, a better right to enjoy the advantages of it than any others."

"Are you determined then, Madam, to sell my farm also?" asked Ward with apprehension on his countenance. "Certainly not, unless you are the purchaser," said Mrs. Meridith. This unexpected kindness altered the behaviour of the farmer; he made her a low bow, and thanked her with great cordiality.

"I am in no hurry to sell it," continued Mrs. Meridith, "and will readily promise you shall have the first offer of it when I do; and you shall have it on the same terms that farmer Campbell had his."

"I own I should like to be the master of a farm as well as he, ma'am," said the man, whose heart was now quite opened by her generosity: "but I must consult my wife and other friends about it; perhaps you would not refuse to take the money by instalments."

"In any way most convenient to you, farmer Ward," she replied, with her accustomed kindness, "for I have that opinion of your industry and honesty, as not to fear your paying me; and I shall have my estate bordered by two as flourishing farms as any in the country while farmer Campbell and yourself are the owners of them, for I know you spare no pains to make them so."

"Well, I declare I did not think you would have been so kind to me, ma'am," returned the farmer; "I have certainly done you wrong; but I'll speak the truth: I beg your pardon, but I thought all your favors were reserved for my neighbour Campbell, and that in a very few years he would have my farm as well as his own, and I should be turned out to make room for him."

"I am sorry you should think so," returned Mrs. Meridith, "you are convinced now, I hope, that there was no reason for it; I have always looked upon you and him, as tenants too good for me to wish to lose either."

"Well, this comes of evil surmising," said the farmer, conscious of his ill conduct to Campbell when they met at market, and other places: "I am ashamed of it, that I be—dear, dear, how unhappy have I made myself about it, and some other people too, I am afraid, madam," looking at Mrs. Meridith, to discover whether farmer Campbell had mentioned his behaviour to her, but he read nothing in her countenance which indicated it; and indeed he had not thought it worth while to relate it, though he was hurt that her kindness to him, should produce an effect in one who had for many years been his friend and neighbour. "Another evil surmise," resumed Ward, after a short silence. "I'll be bound Campbell ha'nt said a word about it; I'll go home, ma'am, and tell my wife how much I have been mistaken; and I begs your pardon for thinking as I have done; some future time we may talk about the purchase; and pray, madam, accept my hearty thanks for your kindness."

"Oh, don't mention that, farmer," returned she, "it is no more than your due, you have always taken good care of my land."

"I will, madam, for the future," said he, "whether I can raise money enough to buy it or not; but I am ashamed to say it, but truth will come out, I did not intend to take any more pains with it; for I thought Campbell would soon have it all."

"Oh, farmer, I hope you will never give way to such ill-grounded suspicions again," returned Mrs. Meridith, "depend upon it I would act with the same fairness to you as to him," and seeing the poor man quite confused with a sense of his error, she offered him her hand, and begged him to believe her as much a friend to his interest as to Campbell's; "only I have known him a longer time," said she, "and his mother was mine, when I had lost my own."

The farmer appeared quite melted by her condescension, and not being able to say another word, he gave her hand a hearty shake, and hurried out of the house to tell his wife how he had been mistaken in what he thought was Mrs. Meridith's intention.