The ladies now all retired to dinner, but I am ignorant of what passed there, as I was left upon a piece of embroidery, which my mistress was covering with some white paper to keep it clean: and she did not fetch me till after tea; when she carried me in her hand down stairs with her work, to show some ladies who were assembled in the drawing room. I then accompanied her into what was usually called the green parlour, as the furniture was all of that colour; whither she went to play with her young visiters, whose names were Eliza Meekly and Julia Norris.
They amused themselves with playing on the Harpsichord, while Miss Martha personated the music-master, and Charlotte chose to teach them dancing. Some part of the evening they played at going to the exhibition; and just as they determined to visit the pictures, the footman came to acquaint the young ladies, that their coach was ready. Miss Meekly’s bib was unpinned, and Martha gave me into her hand in a hurry, while she was looking for her cloak. So without recollecting that I was another’s property, Eliza put me into her pocket, made a very elegant courtesy, and stepped into the carriage. I felt really very sorry to part from a family with which I had been some time connected; and to one of whom I owed my being a Pincushion. But my new mistress was so very engaging, that I was in hopes she would take care of me, and not leave me about to the mercy of a little kitten, who jumped into her lap the moment she got home; and who afterwards frisked away with a little tassel which dropped off from one corner of a work-bag which lay on the table. But before I proceed with my history, it will be necessary to introduce my readers to Miss Meekly and her companions, and to make them better acquainted with this new family, who are all of them deserving their notice.
Mrs. Stanley, to whom the house belonged, was the widow of a clergyman, who had at his death left her in rather indigent circumstances; and she had been advised (to support herself and two younger sisters who lived with her) to take a small number of young ladies to board. Her number was confined to six; two of whom were those I have above mentioned. The others were three sisters, whose names were Saxby, and a Miss Una; who, for her sweetness of temper, and excellence in every accomplishment, was esteemed superior to all the rest of her companions. Harriet Una, was cousin to Miss Meekly, and they usually slept together. She was just turned of thirteen, was tall and large; had light brown hair, blue eyes, and a fine complexion: but her good-nature and willingness to oblige every one, made her the general favourite, and recommended her to universal esteem.
When the young ladies retired to bed, Eliza found me in her pocket, and told Harriet, she was afraid Miss Airy would want her Pincushion; and she was the more concerned, as the family were to go into the country very early the next morning, and she should have no opportunity to return it. However, continued she, “I will make a new one to present to Miss Airy when I see her; and I will keep this, as I have not one at present, my kitten having pulled mine to pieces this morning: but I will take care this shall not come to the same mischance.” I was glad to hear that was her intention, as I should by no means have liked the thought of sharing the fate of my predecessor. At this time Mrs. Stanley entered the room to wish them a good-night, and to see whether they were properly taken care of. “I am very unhappy to-night,” said Eliza, as soon as she was gone: “and I feel ashamed of receiving Mrs. Stanley’s kisses, because I behaved in a manner I am sure she would not approve.” “What have you done, my dear cousin,” replied Harriet, “to make you so uneasy?” “I will tell you,” answered Miss Meekly, “though I do not like to confess my weakness. Just before dinner, Miss Charlotte Airy asked me to eat some preserved plums, which she said had been made a present of to her Mamma, and which came from Portugal. They were very sweet and luscious, and as I am not allowed to have any thing of that kind, I refused her offer. But when we had dined, she pressed me again, and laughed at me very much for being so foolish, as to imagine any thing so innocent could hurt me; but supposed, as I went to school, my mistress, for so she sneeringly called Mrs. Stanley, would whip me if I did. At last, overcome with her persecutions, and vexed to be treated so much like a baby, and as if I was afraid of punishment, I took the plum, and have not been easy since. And now, my dear Harriet, what shall I do? Suppose Mrs. Stanley should ask me whether I have eaten any thing lately which I ought not: and if she does not put that question, I feel so undeserving of her caresses, that she will see by my looks I have behaved improperly.” “I am very sorry,” replied Miss Una; “but as you are so sensible it was wrong, I may spare my recriminations. However, I think the noblest reparation you can now make, would be honestly to inform Mrs. Stanley of the crime, and the sincerity of your regret for having been guilty of it: should it be discovered by any other means, you will forfeit her esteem, and lose that confidence, with which you are at present favoured; by such an unsolicited confession, you will restore satisfaction to your own conscience, and be certain of her approbation.”
Eliza was convinced of the propriety and justice of her friend’s advice, and promised to comply with it the next morning. But her excessive timidity prevented her making use of several opportunities which presented, though the subject occupied all her attention, and she could scarce think of any thing else. She again applied therefore to Harriet, and told her it was impossible for her to summon up courage to do as she had desired; and begged she would, from her, acquaint Mrs. Stanley with what had happened. Miss Una, in the mildest terms, complied with her request; at the same time very generously commending her honour on every occasion, and urging her present uneasiness to engage Mrs. Stanley’s compassion. Miss Meekly, when she was acquainted with her cousin’s having revealed this secret, which had oppressed her mind, was very unwilling to attend her to the lady above-mentioned. Mrs. Stanley received her with the greatest affection and tenderness; and after expressing, in the warmest terms, her approbation of such a generous confession, added, “You need never, my dear girl, be afraid either of anger, or punishment, when with such a degree of frankness, you acknowledge any fault you have committed. Be assured, your friends will be always willing to pardon those errors which you promise to amend: but let the present instance warn you, my Eliza, never to be led into actions which you know are improper, because the company you are with may ridicule your refusal. Miss Charlotte Airy is, in my opinion, a very naughty girl, to endeavour to persuade you to do any thing which you have been forbidden. And I hope from the remorse you have suffered, you will reflect on the folly of complying with any proposals, which your conscience suggests to you is wrong. Do not be afraid of being laughed at for being good. Every person of real sense will esteem you for your resolution: and because a silly girl may sneer at your apprehension of punishment, it will be much more ridiculous, and wicked at the same time, to be guilty of what you are conscious is a crime, for which you will deserve, and perhaps receive correction. Besides, one bad action, is but too often the cause of the commission of others; and when once we have deviated from what is right in a small instance, it is frequently the occasion of accumulated guilt. I will tell you an instance of this kind that may illustrate my meaning, and which, as I was acquainted with the person who is the subject of it, will perhaps make a deeper impression on your mind.”
“A young lady, whose real name I shall (for the sake of charity) conceal under that of Lloyd, and who was, my dear Eliza, nearly of the same age with yourself, was educated with the utmost attention; and as she was an only child, was the darling of her parents, and the centre of all their future expectations. Betsey, which was her usual appellation, went one day to visit a companion, with whom she was extremely intimate; but who unfortunately for her, was not possessed of that strict honour which should be the basis and foundation of friendship. When they had been for some time at play in the garden, she proposed to go back to a little shop in the neighbourhood to make a purchase of some gingerbread; and though Miss Lloyd for a time objected to the proposal without leave, against her mamma’s repeated command; yet, her companion’s laughing at her squeamishness (as she wickedly called an adherence to her duty) prevailed over her better resolutions, and she accompanied her to the place I mentioned. As it was the only shop of the kind which the village afforded, the boys of an adjacent school very frequently went there for the same purpose, as the two young ladies who now entered; and two of the most unlucky of their number, happened at that time to be bargaining for some balls. They staid very soberly till Miss Lloyd had taken out her purse to pay for the cakes she had purchased; but as the lock of her pocket book was entangled in it, it came out of her pocket at the same time, when one of the boys snatched it from her hand, and rudely declared he would see its contents, and know all the girl’s secrets. This vexed her extremely, and she thoughtlessly pursued him, as he ran away with the prize, till she was a good way from home. He was joined by several of his school-fellows, who took part with him, and behaved in so wild a manner as to terrify her greatly. At length, however, she got away from them, and ran back with all the speed in her power: but as it was later than her usual time of returning, her parents were uneasy, and questioned her with great tenderness and anxiety, as to the reason of her stay. She told them, she had been out with Miss Hannah (the companion she had really visited) and her maid, and that a horse had been near running over her, which had frightened her so much, as to prevent her return.
