Mr. and Mrs. Hartland gazed in silent rapture, but Algernon's transports were not so easily repressed; and Zorilda was wakened by the inconsiderate demonstration of his joy at sight of her. The pretty creature started from her fragrant pillow, and, frightened by the presence of strangers, opened wide the most splendid dark eyes, which till then had been reposing within their silken curtains, and, looking wildly round, stretched her dimpled arms towards the gipsey woman, to whose features she was accustomed; but ere the movement was finished, her attention was caught by the little boy, and springing forward to him, these charming children were in an instant locked in each other's embraces.
Mrs. Hartland's tears bespoke the feelings of her heart, and the gipsey woman, desirous to heighten the effect of the scene by flattery, assured her that the little Spaniard had never before exhibited such sensibility to a stranger.
The children played together with a kid which had attached itself to Zorilda, and lay cropping the stray sprigs of her flowery couch while she slept. As Mrs. Hartland retired back a few paces to indulge her emotion, the young Spaniard fancied that she was going away, and seizing her hand, pointed to Algernon with a look of deep anxiety, crying, in the sweetest possible accent, "Lady, no, no go." The spell was now firmly bound around the mother's affection, and she resolved, that if money could purchase the child, she would not return home without Zorilda. Mr. Hartland was in the habit, as has been stated, of yielding to every suggestion of his wife, whose prudence he respected as much as he admired her wisdom; and as he doted on his son, in common with her, and was as much delighted with Zorilda as Mrs. Hartland could possibly be, he entered warmly into the idea of securing such a treasure of companionship for Algernon, and set about negotiating the purchase with all the zeal of one who wished to succeed.
The husband of the gipsey woman returned ere long, and much time did not elapse before a bargain was concluded, the terms of which were, that the child should accompany the party to Henbury, leaving the best part of her little wardrobe behind, and fifty guineas were to be exchanged for her in cash. The gipsies were in reality very anxious to sell the infant, as, though the avidity of gain rendered them desirous to exhibit her for profit, they suffered continual uneasiness from the dread of her being claimed. They had, it is true, stolen her in a distant part of the kingdom, and reached Hazle-moor by forced marches and by intricate bye ways; but much farther concealment could not be hoped for, and the mere loss of their booty was not the worst which these lawless plunderers apprehended. They would be punished for the flagrant violation of the laws which they had committed, and therefore gladly availed themselves of the first offer to take the little girl off their hands for a pecuniary price.
The business was arranged, and Zorilda, who clung with the greatest solicitude to her new acquaintance, as if she felt it more natural as well as agreeable to associate with them than her late masters, was put into the carriage. Algernon followed, and Mrs. Hartland was just raising her foot to the step, when Zorilda's kid made a spring, and took precedence most ungallantly of the lady. The children were charmed with nanny-goat's agility, clasped it in their arms, and begged that it might be left with them. Half a guinea settled this second sale, and the happy family drove away; Mr. Hartland having stipulated to redeem his promissory note on the next market-day at the Tholsel, and an engagement having been agreed to by the wandering horde, that no enquiries should ever be made by any of them again concerning the Spanish foundling.
"Who can this little darling be?" said Mrs. Hartland. It was in vain that she catechised the child. "Zoé," was the only reply to the question, however frequently repeated, of "what is your name?"
The little stranger speedily adopted the sounds of "papa and mamma," the happy children lived in each other's smiles, unconscious that a time might ever come when joy should be exchanged for grief; and what is more extraordinary, such is the contraction of a selfish spirit, parents who ought to have been able to take a wider survey of causes and effects, were satisfied with present expediency, and resolved that futurity should shift for itself.
Time rolled on; the same lessons, the same amusements, occupied the opening minds of Algernon and Zorilda; yet in reality how dissimilar was the education which they received! Admired, and even cherished as was the latter, she was in point of fact a purchased slave, while the former was the hope, the promise, the prop, and pillar of his father's house. As we have never obtained a phrenological survey of these childrens' heads, we shall not say any thing of original configuration with reference to faculties and positions, nor fraudulently entrap our readers into a new edition of Locke on the human understanding, when they expect to find a narrative relating to individuals and events. It suffices us as faithful biographers to state that, while Algernon was theoretically informed, Zorilda was practically instructed; and as early impressions are generally conceived to possess considerable influence on subsequent character, we hope to be pardoned for briefly describing the opposite results of two systems essentially different from each other. Were the children at their meals? Algernon was told that good boys were never greedy, but he was always helped first. Were the little friends at play? Algernon often heard that the eldest, who had most sense, should always give up, and "the young gentleman yield to the young lady." Yet Algernon who was selfish, contended, conquered, and was never reprimanded. He was recommended to be polite, but the little Zorilda was commanded to bring him whatever he wanted. Matters in short were so managed, or rather mismanaged, that words were employed with one, and actions with the other; shadows were the portion of Algernon, while all the substance of discipline was bestowed on Zorilda.
As the children advanced they read the same books, they were taught by the same masters, they learned the same accomplishments, but literary or ornamental acquirement is only the surface of education. The foundation of character, such as forms the real distinction between individuals of the human species, must be laid in the heart, and whether a man is the blessing or the curse of that society in which he possesses influence in after life, generally depends upon the practical nature of those views by which his natural propensities are regulated, his vicious tendencies repressed, and every noble, virtuous indication strengthened and encouraged. Profession is not principle; saying is not doing; and the fruits will correspond with the methods pursued in training the youthful mind. Algernon and Zorilda doted on each other, but the former loved himself better than his little companion. He could not endure her absence, but it was because her sweet temper, cheerful acquiescence and inventive talents, increased the measure of his enjoyment by constant study to please, and perpetual variety in the means of amusement. Zorilda's affection on the contrary was unadulterated by the alloy of selfishness. She could not imagine pleasure separate from the happiness of those who were dear to her little heart. Though her childish sports lost all their charm when Algernon did not share them, she would at any moment endeavour to promote his gratification by the sacrifice of her own; and employed her irresistible eloquence in furthering the indulgence of a ride upon the favourite pony at Mr. Hartland's side, which would deprive her of all she valued till the return of her beloved play-fellow from his excursion.
At length arrived the important hour of decision upon the long agitated question of a public school or a private tutor; and the latter was agreed upon. Mr. Playfair's credentials were unexceptionable, and he commenced his course with every prospect of mutual liking. He was a middle-aged man, of pleasing manners, and an excellent scholar; but as he was given to understand that no moral instruction was required at his hands, he soon learned to desist from interfering with a department placed beyond the bounds of his jurisdiction.