University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.
FALSE PRIDE AND UNSOPHISTICATED INNOCENCE.

“What are you doing there Lucy?” said Mrs.
Cavendish to a lovely girl, about fifteen years old.
She was kneeling at the feet of an old man sitting
just within the door of a small thatched cottage situated
about five miles from Southampton on the coast
of Hampshire. “What are you doing there child?”
said she, in rather a sharp tone, repeating her question.

“Binding up sergeant Blandford's leg ma'am,” said
the kind hearted young creature, looking up in the
face of the person who spoke to her. At the same
time, rising on one knee she rested the lame limb
on a stool on which was a soft cushion which this
child of benevolence had provided for the old soldier.

“And was there no one but you Miss Blakeney
who could perform such an office? You demean
yourself strangely.” “I did not think it was any
degradation,” replied Lucy, “to perform an act of
kindness to a fellow creature, but I have done now,”
continued she rising, “and will walk home with you

ma'am if you please.” She then wished the sergeant
a good night, and tying on her bonnet which had been
thrown on the floor during her employment, she took
Mrs. Cavendish's arm, and they proceeded to the
house of the Rector of the village.

“There! Mr. Matthews,” exclaimed the lady on
entering the parlour, “there! I have brought home
Miss Blakeney, and where do you think I found her?
and how employed?”

“Where you found her,” replied Mr. Matthews,
smiling, “I will not pretend to say; for she is a
sad rambler, but I dare be bound that you did not
find her either foolishly or improperly employed.”

“I found her in old Blandford's cottage, swathing
up his lame leg.” “And how my good madam,”
inquired Mr. Matthews, “could innocence be better
employed, than in administering to the comforts of
the defender of his country?”

“Well, well, you always think her right, but we
shall hear what my sister says to it. Mrs. Matthews,
do you approve of a young lady of rank and fortune
making herself familiar with all the beggars and low
people in the place?”

“By no means,” said the stately Mrs. Matthews,
“and I am astonished that Miss Blakeney has not a
higher sense of propriety and her own consequence.”

“Dear me, ma'm,” interrupted Lucy, “it was to
make myself of consequence that I did it; for lady
Mary, here at home, says I am nobody, an insignificant
Miss Mushroom, but sergeant Blandford calls
me his guardian angel, his comforter; and I am sure
those are titles of consequence.”

“Bless me,” said Mrs. Cavendish, “what plebeian
ideas the girl has imbibed, it is lucky for you child,
that you were so early removed from those people.”

“I hope madam,” replied Lucy, “you do not
mean to say that it was fortunate for me that I was
so early deprived of the protection of my dear grandfather?
Alas! it was a heavy day for me; he taught
me that the only way to become of real consequence,
is to be useful to my fellow creatures.” Lucy put
her hand before her eyes to hide the tears she could
not restrain, and courtesying respectfully to Mr.
Matthews, his wife and sister, she left the room.

“Well, I protest sister,” said Mrs. Cavendish,
“that is the most extraordinary girl I ever knew;
with a vast number of low ideas and habits, she can
sometimes assume the hauteur and air of a dutchess.
In what a respectful yet independent manner she
went out of the room, I must repeat she is a most
extraordinary girl.”

Mrs. Matthews was too much irritated to reply
with calmness, she therefore wisely continued silent.
Mr. Matthews was silent from a different cause, and
supper being soon after announced, the whole family
went into the parlour; Lucy had dried her tears, and
with a placid countenance seated herself by her reverend
friend, Mr. Matthews. “You, I hope, are not
angry with me, Sir?” said she with peculiar emphasis.
“No my child,” he replied, pressing the hand she
had laid upon his arm, “No, I am not angry, but
my little Lucy must remember that she is now advancing
towards womanhood, and that it is not
always safe, nor perfectly proper, to be rambling

about in the dusk of the evening without a companion.”

“Then if you say so sir, I will never do it again;
but indeed you do not know how happy my visits
make old Mr. Blandford; you know, sir, he is very
poor; so Lady Mary would not go with me if I
asked her; and he is very lame, so if Aura went
with me, she is such a mad-cap, perhaps she might
laugh at him; besides, when I sometimes ask Mrs.
Matthews to let her walk with me, she has something
for her to do, and cannot spare her.”

“Well, my dear,” said the kind hearted old gentleman,
“when you want to visit him again ask me
to go with you.” “Oh! you are the best old man
in the world,” cried Lucy, as rising she put her arms
round his neck and kissed him. “There now, there
is a specimen of low breeding,” said Mrs. Cavendish,
“you ought to know, Miss Blakeney, that nothing
can be more rude than to call a person old.” “I
did not mean to offend,” said Lucy. “No! I am
sure you did not,” replied Mr. Matthews, “and so
let us eat our supper, for when a man or woman,
sister, is turned of sixty they may be termed old,
without much exaggeration, or the smallest breach
of politeness.”

But the reader will perhaps like to be introduced
to the several individuals who compose this family.