"I never heard her say more than that Bella and you were both servants she brought with her from the East-Indies," said Anna.
"So she did, Miss, and thank her for it a thousand times, for we had no friends there; poor Bella torn from all her's long ago, and I never had any but poor slaves like myself. I was born a slave, but I did not feel the whip, or the irons, and the cruel ratings the less for that; but I have been a sad, sad man, Miss," continued he; "ask me no more, and if my good lady ever tell you, do not hate me for it, as she has forgiven me: I knew no better then, but good deal of good has come of it to me."
Anna was too mindful of her kind protectress's maxim, "the way to be happy ourselves is to add to the happiness of others, not to take from it," to press for any farther explanation from Syphax, when she saw he wished not to give it; and she looked forward to Mrs. Meridith's promised recital with increased anxiety.
"I am afraid Syphax has been the cause of some of her sorrows," said she to herself. "How wrong of him to distress so kind a friend! and what has she gone through! Oh! if I cannot add to her happiness, I shall never be happy myself."
With this view she was still more attentive to the instructions her kind friend was continually giving her, and those of the different masters provided for her. Accustomed to be Mrs. Meridith's constant companion; to read to her, and hear her remarks on what she read, as well as to express her own, and have her judgment informed and set right when she had formed a wrong opinion, it was not extraordinary that her understanding was beyond her years; and when little more than fourteen, her manners and sentiments were those of a woman double that age, and in many respects her ideas and knowledge was far more correct. Her conversation, also, was of great use to William and John; she either lent to them or gave them an account of whatever books she read, and this encouraged in them a taste for literature it is probable they would not have indulged, but that they might converse more freely with her.
Mrs. Campbell had now seven children; four boys and three girls. The infant which she had in her arms when Mrs. Meridith first visited them was grown a fine girl of ten years old, and her sisters were one eight, and the other six; the two youngest were boys, but none of these had that affection for Anna as William and John, who still thought of her as a sister. Anna would have instructed the girls in every thing she knew, had not her uncle and aunt prevented her.
"It is not necessary," said Mr. Campbell, "that our daughters should learn singing, and music, and French, or any accomplishment; though for Mrs. Meridith's child, as she has been pleased to make you, it is. Our's are farmer's daughters, and I hope never to see instilled into their minds a desire to be otherways; which might be the case were they to know a little, of what you I hope know enough to justly appreciate its value; and which is not worth anything, unless it enables you to amuse Mrs. Meridith, and to pass through the world with more credit to her, as her adopted daughter, than you could have done, had you been ill-bred and illiterate. But let my children never have an idea of learning accomplishments, for they can never be useful to them. Every thing which can make them sensible companions they shall know, as far as books, and my ideas of education will permit; and should you continue to live here as your kind patroness has done, I hope you will not find them unworthy of your friendship, or less agreeable companions than Mrs. Meridith, has condescended to say she has found their mother."
Anna could not but allow the justice of his remark; and while she saw how little he thought of those acquirements, which most young ladies are proud of possessing, she imperceptibly learnt how far she ought to value them in herself. She could not say her cousins were the happier for not knowing them, since she had not found them causes of unhappiness in herself: the idea of affording Mrs. Meridith amusement, or adding to her pleasure, gave a zest to her attainments; but this was a motive her cousins could not have, since their father and mother did not desire it.
"I will not say then," thought she, "that they cannot be happy without them, but it is all best as it is; it is right I should endeavour to attain them, and that they should not: thus shall we be each fitted for our separate stations."