Lucy (Chapter_16)

"Pleasures!" said Lucy looking at him with astonishment pleasures? is there anything but misery and weakness or rather in guilt like mine? "Is it possible? said the Captain that you ask the question, what then, if not pleasure, could have led you into guilt as you call it, a natural weakness as I think it." Lucy only shook her head, hid her face with her work and sobbed aloud. Her emotion was contagious, he started up, caught her to his bosom, kissed away the tears from her cheeks, called her his poor, unfortunate, but lovely girl, and bade her be comforted--that altho' all the world despised her, he would love--he would cherish and protect her. For a few moments Lucy forgot every thing but her misery, and was only sensible of the soothing power of tenderness. But as her emotion subsided, her reason

emotion subsided, her reason and her duty revived, and she struggled to free herself from his encircling arms. At that moment the door opened, and Hetty entered. She started in the greatest astonishment on discovering Lucy in such a situation. "Hoity, toity" she exclaimed, "fine doings truly! No wonder Miss you would'nt stay with the servants, when you made sure of the Captains company--no wonder you despised us all, oh, ho, Miss Innocent, who would ha' thought the like, but I'll run and tell 'em ya're engaged and how, you are engaged in the bargain." "Stay, dear Hetty do stay, "don't leave me,--pray don't leave me!" and she caught her hand to keep her. "Oh to be sure Miss, as you desires it, to be sure I'll stay, if the Captain don't object to my company, and if he does, I can assure you it will be the first time," and she gave him a look of mingled triumph and fury: then with the greatest assurance, she pulled a chair and sat down, and begged they would all be seated and not let her disturb them. Capt Dey snatched up his hat, hastily left the room pulling the door violently after him

Mrs Dey, according to the new arrangement, came into the nursery after dinner to nurse her child.--Instead of the dirty, confused, cold room, which had disgusted her--neatness and order, a clean hearth and cheerful fire awaited her. Instead of a troublesome, fretful child annoying her, the little Serena met her with smiles and had always some pretty little story to repeat, that her good nurse had told her. Instead of the puny, sickly, whining infant, whose looks conveyed reproaches to the mother's heart, a smiling, healthful babe now sprang elastic to her arms, and repaid her cares with its sweet carresses, and instead of a cross, impertinent discontented nurse Lucy, now met her, with respect and civility and the most obliging manners. What a transformation--what a magical change! but alas, it was not irresistable, powerfully as she felt the difference, it yet failed to alter a heart devoted to the world!--A young lady, a distant relation of Capt. Dey's was an inmate of the family, she had been on a visit in the country, but had now returned, and hearing from Hetty such a charming account of the

from Hetty such a charming account of the Nurse and Nursery, she too, found her way to this once neglected apartment and was so charmed with its comforts, that she henceforth chose it as her dressing room, very well pleased to avail herself of Lucy's assistance in altering or trimming her dresses. She was a vulgar girl, in spite of all her finery and city airs. It was not her country origin, or her lowly birth, that produced this vulgarity of look and manner; no, it was innate, and is often found among the wealthy, as a native delicacy and gentility are frequently discovered among the lowly and indigent. Of this Lucy was a striking example; her slender form, beautiful tho' pale face, and modest manners, were united with an untaught dignity, that inspired involuntary respect and if any would have thought of treating her with familiarity.--But Miss Rachel Blight, with her red cheeks, black eyes, and white teeth, perpetually displayed by her broad laugh

her loud voice, free manners and frolicsome disposition, seemed to challenge familiarity, and to provoke impertinence. Lucy would have very gladly dispenced with her visitations to the nursery, where she threw every thing into confusion and would if she could, have engrossed all her time; she took care frequently to insinuate that she was confering a great favour on Lucy by letting her self down to sit in the same room with a person that had behaved as she had done, but added, she was not one of those that could not pity poor frail creatures; she pitied them sincerely when they were humble, and to show that she realy did pity nurse, she would sometimes let her assist her in her work etc--Gladly would the poor girl have excused her giving such proofs of her compassion; but sunk, degraded as she felt herself, she had no spirit to resist, she could only oppose in silence, to the contempt and ill treatment she occasionally met with. This silence, this submission