Julia. My sister. She is very good. I try to be like her. I hope I may be as good and as wise as Mary, when I am as old. Mamma came here because London made her ill. She brought me with her, but Mary staid with my aunt. To-morrow they will both come here. Then I shall be happy; for I love Mary, she is so kind to me. Mary likes primroses, cowslips, and violets. She will be pleased to see her room so pretty: she will not expect to find so many flowers blown, for there are none in London.
As Julia ended her speech, the church-clock began to strike: she added, in a melancholy tone, “So, it is seven! I must go in: Mary will have no flowers.”
Lady B. I am sorry, my love, your kindness to Bello has been the cause of this disappointment to you.
Julia added, more cheerfully—“Perhaps I shall have time to-morrow to get some, before she comes. It is my own fault: if I had gone back directly, I should have been able to have gathered a few. I have lost the time chattering. If I chatter any more, mamma will wonder where I am. Good evening. I hope the lamb will soon be well.”
Julia ran home. Her mother was surprised to see her return empty-handed. “Where are your flowers, Julia?” asked Mrs. Vincent: “I expected to have seen a bow-pot almost as big as yourself.”
Julia. Oh, mamma! just as I was beginning to gather it, a poor lamb fell over the hedge. It was so badly hurt, that it could not walk—it could not stand. It was very tame, and had a collar of blue ribbon round its neck. So I guessed it belonged to the young lady who lives at the large house in the park. You know, mamma, Mrs. Thomson, who called to see you yesterday, talked a great deal about Miss Beauchamp, and her pet-lamb, which fed out of her hand.
Mrs. V. Yes, I remember she did. Now tell me what became of the lamb.
Julia. Mamma, I carried it home:—no, not quite home; because I met Miss Beauchamp, and her papa and mamma, before I reached the gate. The lamb was very heavy: I could not walk fast whilst I had it in my arms. By the time the servant took it from me, and that I had talked a little, the church-clock struck seven, and I was obliged to come in without the flowers. I am very sorry—very sorry, indeed; because Mary will come home to-morrow.
Mrs. V. Very sorry, for what, Julia? because the lamb is hurt? because you have no flowers? or because Mary will come home to-morrow?
Julia. Oh, no, mamma, not that. I am glad my dear Mary will come home to-morrow. I am sorry I have no flowers to put into her room. I wished, so very much, to ornament her room with flowers, to surprise her, that though I was sorry to see the lamb in pain, and bleeding, do you know, mamma, I was near leaving it where it was, and gathering the bow-pot, instead of carrying it to Miss Beauchamp.