retend to judge of
what your feelings and conduct will be in a situation so wholly new to
you? The obscurity in which you have lived, has ill fitted you to
encounter the snares and temptations of an interested world. You will be
the prey of designers, and repent when too late of the inconsiderate
choice you have made. But now, Amaranthe, for your decision." Amaranthe
felt a little awkward in declaring her choice, after what the fairy had
said; but at length, in some confusion, replied, "I have always longed
to be handsome. My governess has told me such pretty stories of
beautiful ladies, and of their being so followed and admired, and every
body being desirous to serve and please them, that I am sure they must
be the happiest of all creatures." "Your governess was very foolish,"
said the fairy; "she had better have told you of the heart-aches and
discontent that generally fall to the lot of beauties." "How can that
be?" inquired the astonished girl, "surely being courted and caressed by
others, must make one anxious to please and oblige in return. I should
be too happy to be proud and ill-natured." Poor Amaranthe spoke the
truth at the time. Her innocent mind was unacquainted with the failings,
that the fairy had stated as being usually attendant on beauty. Having
never met with competitors, she had not experienced the grievances of
rivalship or jealousy; and vanity and coquetry were hardly known to her
by name.

"I perceive," said the offended fairy, "you are as opinionated as your
brother. I fear the time may come when you will both repent not having
paid more regard to my admonitions. And which of these, my gentle
Claribel, (turning to her,) shall I present to you?" Claribel timidly
answered, "I am not ambitious of riches, they would but embarrass me;
neither do I covet beauty--to be an object of general notice, would to
me be only distressing. A contented mind must surely be the greatest of
all blessings: at least, I can neither imagine or desire a greater. I
shall therefore gratefully accept one of your favourite flowers,"
looking at the lilies.

"Amiable girl," exclaimed the fairy, "there is no fear of your ever
repenting of your choice. How may your cousins wish they had partaken of
your prudence; but it is not yet too late to repair their error. I give
you," addressing Adrian and Amaranthe, "the remainder of the evening to
consider of what I have said. Before you retire to rest, your choice
must be finally fix