"How good you are, Cousin Debby!" exclaimed Lucy. "You just seem to let me do things because I like them. I do love you dearly!"
And Lucy threw her arms round her cousin's neck and kissed her heartily. She had never yet kissed Aunt Bernard of her own accord. "Oh, how I do wish I could be a good girl!"
"Why, I think you are a tolerably good girl, as little girls go," said Cousin Deborah, returning the kiss, "though doubtless there is much room for improvement still. I find that the case with myself; and I have been trying to be a good girl a much longer time than you have. But, Lucy," she added, seriously, detaining the little girl a moment, "if you really wish to be good, you must ask the help of your heavenly Father to make you so. Ask him to put his Spirit in your heart and make you love him. That is the only way to be good and happy, in this world or the next. Now go and take your ride, and see how many pleasant things you will have to tell me when you come home."
"I don't believe any one in the world is so good as my cousin Deborah," said Lucy to Anne.
Lucy was mounted on her good, patient little donkey, and, with Anne at her side, was riding down the avenue towards the lodge beside the great gate. The old trees, of which there was a double row on each side, met over her head; and the rooks, which had had their nests for a hundred years and more in the great elms, were apparently giving a great deal of good advice to their young ones in the branches. On either side stretched the park; and Lucy could see the deer resting in the fern, or bounding away as they approached. It was a lovely afternoon in August: the air was full of pleasant sounds and scents; and everywhere Lucy's eyes rested upon something beautiful.
"I do believe my cousin Deborah is the very best and kindest lady in the whole world," repeated Lucy. "Don't you think so, Anne?"
"Well, I do not think you will find many better, my lady," replied Anne. "This is not much like the way you were spending the afternoon five weeks ago this very day. Do you remember how that was?"
"Why, no," said Lucy, considering. "Oh, yes: I do, indeed," she added, shuddering. "Oh, Anne, how dreadful that was!"
"And you little thought who was coming to your rescue: did you?" continued Anne. "I am sure my heart was in my mouth when Madam Burgess took me into the library, and there sat the parson and that fine gentleman in the gold-laced coat and waistcoat."
"I am sure it was very good in you, Anne," said Lucy. "I shall never forget it. But, oh, that unlucky thimble! I would give any thing if it was found, or if I had never touched it! It makes me feel so ashamed when Cousin Deborah praises me, and says and does such kind things! When Aunt Bernard scolded me, I did not feel so; I felt vexed and angry, and just like being revenged upon her; but I don't feel so now."