nger; yet she did not shew less kindness to the
object of this vexatious circumstance: she held him in her arms while
she sat at table, and repeatedly said to him, (though he had not the
sense to thank her) "That she would always be his friend."

The first emotions of resentment against Dorriforth being passed, she
returned with her little charge to the farm house, before it was likely
his uncle should come back; another instance of obedience, which Miss
Woodley was impatient her guardian should know; she therefore enquired
where he was, and sent him a note for the sole purpose of acquainting
him with it, offering at the same time an apology for what had happened.
He returned in the evening seemingly reconciled, nor was a word
mentioned of the incident which had occurred in the former part of the
day; yet in his countenance remained a perfect remembrance of it,
without one trait of compassion for his helpless nephew.

CHAPTER IX.

There are few things so mortifying to a proud spirit as to suffer by
immediate comparison--men can hardly bear it, but to women the punishment
is intolerable; and Miss Milner now laboured under this humiliation to a
degree which gave her no small inquietude.

Miss Fenton, young, of exquisite beauty, elegant manners, gentle
disposition, and discreet conduct, was introduced to Miss Milner's
acquaintance by her guardian, and frequently, sometimes inadvertently,
held up by him as a pattern for her to follow--for when he did not say
this in direct terms, it was insinuated by the warmth of his panegyric
on those virtues in which Miss Fenton excelled, and in which his ward
was obviously deficient. Conscious of her own inferiority in these
subjects of her guardian's praise, Miss Milner, instead of being
inspired to emulation, was provoked to envy.

Not to admire Miss Fenton was impossible--to find one fault with her
person or sentiments was equally impossible--and yet to love her was
unlikely.

That serenity of mind which kept her features in a continual placid
form, though enchanting at the first glance, upon a second or third,
fatigued the sight for want of variety; and to have seen her distorted
with rage, convulsed with mirth, or in deep dejection, had been to her
advantage. But her superior soul appeared above those emotions, and
there was more inducement to worship her as a saint than to love her as
a woman. Yet Dorriforth, whose heart was not formed (at least not
educated) for lo