generous people one meets with generally are.

From whatever cause or causes,--to return to Fanny,--she grew up, not
fierce, sullen, nor yet hypocritical, but timid and distrustful,
miserably sensitive and anxious, and morbidly conscientious.

There was another pleasure in store for her, however; for, the afternoon
following that of my return, Mrs. Julia, looking out as usual for her
husband,--with messages from four different alarmingly or alarmed sick
persons, requesting him to proceed without delay in four different
directions,--saw him at length driving down the road with such
unprofessional slowness that she feared some accident to himself or his
harness. When he came before the door, the cause appeared. It was a
handsome Bath chair, with a basket of strawberries on the floor and a
large nosegay on the seat, fastened to the back of his gig, and safely
towed by it.

"What is that for?" cried I from Fanny's window.

"Fanny's coach," said he, looking up. "Miss Dudley has sent it to be
taken care of for her. She does not want it herself for the present; and
you can draw your dolly out in it every fine day."

"O," cried Fanny, sitting upright on the couch by the window,--where she
spent the greater part of the day,--to see for herself, with the tears
in her eyes. "O, how lovely! That is the very kindest thing she has done
yet;--and you don't know how she keeps sending me everything, Katy!"

"Miss Dudley? Who is she?"

"O, don't you know? The great naturalist's sister. He lives in that
beautiful place, on the shore, in the large stone cottage. The ground
was broken for it before you went to Greenville. She is very sick, I am
afraid,--very kind, I am sure. I never saw her. She has heard about me.
I am afraid the Doctor told her. I hope she does not think I meant he
should."

"Of course, dear, she does not."

"Do you really think so?"

"Certainly."

"Why?"

"Why,--I know I should not like being begged of in that underhand way
myself; and if I did not like it, I might send something once, but after
that I should never keep on sending."

"I am very glad you think so; for I like her kindness, though I scarcely
like to have her show it in this way, because I am afraid I can never do
anything for her. But I hope she does like to send; for Dr. Physick says
she always asks after me, almost before he can after her, and looks very
much pleased if she hears that I have been so. I suppose the Doctor will
think it is