'How should I rejoice,' cried Camilla, 'to rescue this one poor unoffending and oppressed little animal from such tyranny!' Then, taking out her purse, she desired to know what he would have for it.
The man, as a very great favour, said he would take ten guineas; though it would be his ruin to part with it, as it was all his livelihood; but he was willing to oblige the young lady.
Camilla, with a constrained laugh, but a very natural blush, put up her purse, and said: 'Thou must linger on, then, in captivity, thou poor little undeserving sufferer, for I cannot help thee!'
Every body protested that ten guineas was an imposition; and the man offered to part with it for five.
Camilla, who had imagined it would have cost half a guinea, was now more ashamed, because equally incapable to answer such a demand; she declined, therefore, the composition, and the man was dismissed.
At night, when she returned to her own room from the play, she saw the little bullfinch, reposing in a superb cage, upon her table.
Delighted first, and next perplexed, she flew to Mrs. Arlbery, and inquired whence it came.
Mrs. Arlbery was as much amazed as herself.
Questions were then asked of the servants; but none knew, or none would own, how the bird became thus situated.