Lucy, however, was more mortified and angry than repentant; she had thought so little about correcting her faults, and submitting to the government of older and wiser people, that she had a great deal more to suffer before she could resolutely set about becoming docile, obedient, humble, and submissive; she had never restrained her inclination, or controlled any of her desires or passions, and knew very little about self government; for no one had taught her till she came to her aunt's, that she ought to do so.
Emily's mother had done as she said she would, for she always kept her word in every thing. She had advised her about the gown she was to get for poor Nurse Hooper, the day after she had received her crown piece; she had done more than she had promised; she had cut and fitted the gown, and shewed Emily just how to make it all herself, so that she had double pleasure in giving it to her. It was now done and folded neatly, and Emily went with her mother to carry that, and some other little comforts, to the poor woman.
Emily's delight was full and complete, when she witnessed the brightened eyes and grateful countenance of Nurse Hooper, and heard her say, that, "now again she should be able to hear her dear minister, and to thank her heavenly Father for all his mercies to her, in the Lord's own blessed house;" and when on the following Sabbath, Emily stood at her mother's window, and saw the good woman walking to meeting, exactly as she had pictured her, with her psalm book and her fan nicely folded in her handkerchief, and looking so peaceful and happy, Emily thought she felt more pleasure than she had expected, and would not have exchanged her feelings, for any thing which could have been offered her.
Time passed on, and the adventures we have related were over and nearly forgotten. Lucy sometimes thought of her faults, and of the lessons which had been given her; she sometimes thought she would try more to correct them, to be more amiable, and good; and when she saw how happy Emily always appeared, and how much she was beloved, she wished she too had learned to control herself, and resist temptation, that she might be as happy; but she did nothing in earnest, and when temptations came, she did not try at all. Her aunt, however, continued to take the kindest care of her, she watched for every opportunity to instruct and amend her, and she hoped that her heart was a little less selfish, her temper a little more restrained, and that she began to have more fear of doing wrong, to remember more constantly that the eye of God was ever upon her, even when she was alone and in thick darkness, and could see not only what she did do, but what she even wished to do in her mind.
One morning a few months after their ride to Brookline, while Lucy was sitting in her chamber opposite to the open door, putting together a dissected map which her father had just sent to her, she saw her aunt come up stairs and go into her own room, with a little package in her hand, wrapped in white paper and tied with twine. Lucy supposed that it had come from New York with her map, and she felt very curious to know what it could be, that her aunt had folded up so neatly in white paper. She immediately thought that her aunt had received some pretty present from New York, and she watched her to see if she opened the paper, and what she did with it, and saw that she went to her closet, stood up in a chair, and reaching to the highest shelf of her closet, opened a small trunk, and put the parcel into it; then she went to her bureau drawer, opened that, and laid something in, shut the drawer and left the chamber.
All this puzzled Lucy exceedingly; so she determined to ask her aunt as she went down stairs, what was in the paper, though she ought to have known it was impertinent to question her aunt about a thing which did not at all concern herself, and that she ought to restrain her curiosity.
"Did you get that little bundle from New York, aunt?" said Lucy.
"No, my dear," replied her aunt.
"What was in it, aunt?" continued the inquisitive little girl.
"It is nothing which it concerns you in the least to know, my dear," said her aunt; "nothing that would please you, or interest you in any way; you should be less curious."