aused for some observation or comment. She seemed conscious of my
expectation, but had no power to speak. Overpowered, at length, by her
emotions, she burst into tears.

I was at a loss in what manner to construe these symptoms. I waited till
her vehemence was somewhat subsided, and then said, "What think you of
my schemes? Your approbation is of some moment: do you approve of them
or not?"

This question excited some little resentment, and she answered, "You
have left me nothing to say. Go, and be happy; no matter what becomes of
me. I hope I shall be able to take care of myself."

The tone in which this was said had something in it of upbraiding. "Your
happiness," said I, "is too dear to me to leave it in danger. In this
house you will not need my protection, but I shall never be so far from
you as to be disabled from hearing how you fare, by letter, and of being
active for your good. You have some money, which you must husband well.
Any rent from your farm cannot be soon expected; but what you have got,
if you remain with Mr. Curling, will pay your board and all other
expenses for two years; but you must be a good economist. I shall
expect," continued I, with a serious smile, "a punctual account of all
your sayings and doings. I must know how every minute is employed and
every penny is expended, and, if I find you erring, I must tell you so
in good round terms."

These words did not dissipate the sullenness which her looks had
betrayed. She still forbore to look at me, and said, "I do not know how
I should tell you every thing. You care so little about me that--I
should only be troublesome. I am old enough to think and act for myself,
and shall advise with nobody but myself."

"That is true," said I. "I shall rejoice to see you independent and
free. Consult your own understanding, and act according to its dictates.
Nothing more is wanting to make you useful and happy. I am anxious to
return to the city, but, if you will allow me, will go first to
Malverton, see that things are in due order, and that old Caleb is well.
From thence, if you please, I will call at your uncle's, and tell him
what has happened. He may, otherwise, entertain pretensions and form
views erroneous in themselves and injurious to you. He may think himself
entitled to manage your estate. He may either suppose a will to have
been made, or may actually have heard from your father, or from others,
of that which you burnt, and in which he was nam