Fan. She was, sir; and had been long a widow.
Land. Do you know what her maiden name was?
Fan. It was Borrowdale, sir.
Land. Borrowdale!—And pray, whither were you going when the unfortunate accident happened?
Fan. To Kendal in Westmoreland, sir, near which my grandmother was born.
Land. Ah! ‘tis the very same—every circumstance corresponds! My dear Fanny (taking her hand), you have found a relation when you little thought of it. I am your kinsman. My mother was a Borrowdale, of Westmoreland, and half-sister to your grandmother. I have heard of all your parentage; and I remember the death of your poor father, who was a very honest ingenious artist: and of your mother soon after, of a broken heart. I could never discover what family they left, nor what was become of my kinswoman. But I rejoice I have found you out in this extraordinary manner. You must come and live with me. My wife and daughters will be very glad to receive one whose conduct has done her so much credit.
Fan. I am much obliged to you, sir, for your kindness; but I am too mean a person to live as a relation in a family like yours.
Land. O no! you will not find us of that sort who despise worthy people for being low in the world; and your language and actions show that you have been well brought up.
Fan. My poor grandmother, sir, was so kind as to give me all the education in her power; and if I have not somewhat benefited by her example and instructions, it must have been my own fault.
Land. You speak very well, and I feel more attached to you, the more I hear you.—Well, you must prepare to come home with me. I will take care to make proper acknowledgments to the good people here who have been so kind to you.