seriousness to his deportment, which many people imagined proceeded
from haughtiness of disposition, yet nothing could be further from Mr.
Darnley's character, for he was affable, gentle, benevolent, and humane.

His family consisted of an only sister, who, like himself, had lost the
object of her tenderest affection, but who, in dividing her attention
between her brother and his amiable children, endeavoured to forget her
own misfortunes.

Mr. Darnley's fortune was sufficiently great to enable him to place his
daughters in the first school in London, but he preferred having them
under his immediate instruction, and as Mrs. Collier offered to assist
him in their education he resolved for some years not to engage a
governess, as Nurse Chapman was one of those worthy creatures to whose
care he could securely trust them.

An old friend of Mr. Darnley's had recently bought a house at Rochester,
and that gentleman and his sister were invited to pass a few days there,
and as Emily grew rather too big for the nurse's management Mrs. Collier
resolved to make her of the party, leaving Sophia, Amanda, and Eliza
under that good woman's protection.

It was Mr. Darnley's wish that the young folks should rise early and
take a long walk every morning before breakfast, but they were strictly
ordered never to go beyond their own grounds unless their aunt or father
accompanied them. This order they had frequently endeavoured to persuade
Nurse Chapman to disregard, but, faithful to the trust reposed in her,
she always resisted their urgent entreaties.

The morning after Mr. Darnley went to Rochester the poor woman found
herself thoroughly indisposed, and wholly incapable of rising at the
accustomed hour. The children, however, were dressed for walking, and
the nursemaid charged not to go beyond the shrubbery, and they all
sallied out in high good humour.

'Now, Susan,' said Sophia, as soon as they entered the garden, 'this is
the only opportunity you may ever have of obliging us. Do let us walk to
the village, and then you know you can see your father and mother.'

'La, missy!' replied the girl, 'why, you know 'tis as much as my place
is worth if Nurse Chapman should find out.'

'Find it out indeed,' said Amanda; 'how do you think she is to find it
out? Come, do let us go, there's a dear good creature.'

'Yes, dear, dear Susan, do let us go,' said Eliza, skipping on before
them, 'and I'll show you the way, for I walked there las