"Indeed," replied Emily, "I think she would if she were taught to do it."
"How can persons be taught to feel?" said Dora; "it must come naturally to them."
"Not quite. The feelings are certainly given to us originally, but they may be very much increased by action. If Miss Cunningham were once taught to do little trifling kindnesses for her friends she would soon feel for them. You know it is almost a proverb that benefactors are fond of those on whom they confer favours."
"I dare say you may be right," said Dora; "but I cannot imagine that Lucy Cunningham will ever be anything but a cold, hard-hearted, disagreeable girl. Margaret perhaps may find out her virtues some day or other, but I am afraid I never shall."
Margaret was silent:—she was vexed and disappointed, but did not like to own it; and she was so fully aware of her unkindness to Emily, that she expected Lucy to be the same, forgetting how differently they had been circumstanced. Miss Cunningham's preference had flattered her, while she believed it real; but she was now beginning to perceive that, where selfishness is the foundation of the character, no trust can be placed in any professions of affection.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
It was about three weeks afterwards, during which time nothing particular had occurred to vary Amy's life at Emmerton, that Margaret received a second note from Miss Cunningham, which gave her much greater vexation than the former. It was written more naturally, but the tone was one of considerable annoyance.
Lord Rochford, at Mr Cunningham's request, had settled that the journey to London should be postponed another year, as, upon consideration, he thought Lucy too young to join in any amusements, and not sufficiently advanced in her education to profit by masters. The French governess was, therefore, to be dismissed, and another provided, who might be more equal to instruct her.
"This is the most provoking part of the whole business," wrote Miss Cunningham. "Madame was the kindest creature possible, and allowed me to do just as I chose in everything; and now I shall be pestered from morning till night by a stiff, formal, odious Englishwoman. And I must say, Margaret, that it is a very great deal your doing; at least, I am sure, if I had not gone to Emmerton, nothing of the kind would have been thought of; and George has grown so disagreeable lately, he is not to be endured."
"It would be strange," said Dora, when Margaret showed her the note, "if, after all, we should go to London, now that Lucy is obliged to stay at home."