re Morris became
inveterate; and the wives of both, and the daughters of the latter,
partook in the relentless animosity. Two years passed, and every day the
mutual hatred and contempt in which they held each other increased. At
that period, a younger son of Squire Morris, who was a lieutenant in the
service of the East India Company, obtained leave to visit England and
his friends. It was early in June; the swallows chased each other in
sport, twittering as they flew over the blue bosom of Windermere; every
bush, every tree--yea, it seemed as if every branch sent forth the music
of singing birds, and the very air was redolent with melody, from the
bold songs of the thrush and the lark to the love-note of the
wood-pigeon; and even the earth rejoiced in the chirp of the
grasshopper, its tiny but pleasant musician. The fields and the leaves
were in the loveliness and freshness of youth, luxuriating in the
sunbeams, in the depth of their summer green; and the butterfly sported,
and the bee pursued its errand from flower to flower. The mighty
mountains circled the scene, and threw their dun shadow on the lake,
where, a hundred fathoms deep, they seemed a bronzed and inverted world.
At this time, Maria Sim was sailing upon the lake in a small boat that
her father had purchased for her, and which was guided by a boy.

A sudden, but not what could be called a strong, breeze came away. The
boy had little strength and less skill, and, from his awkwardness in
shifting the sail, he caused the boat to upset. Maria was immersed in
the lake. The boy clung to the boat, but terror deprived him of ability
to render her assistance. She struggled with the waters, and her
garments bore her partially up for a time. A boat, in which was a young
gentleman, had been sailing to and fro, and, at the time the accident
occurred, was within three hundred yards of her. On hearing her sudden
cry, and the continued screams of the boy, he drew in his sail, and,
taking the oars, at his utmost strength pulled to her assistance. Almost
at every third stroke he turned round his head to see the progress he
had made, or if he had yet reached her. Twice he beheld her disappear
beneath the water--a third time she rose to the surface--he was within a
few yards of her. He sprang from his boat. She was again sinking. He
dived after her, he raised her beneath his arm, and succeeded in placing
her in his boat. He also rescued the boy, and conveyed them both to
land