and asked some ladies to let
their children come and see her next day, to which they consented. But
now came a sad drawback. One of the ladies told her that her little
girl should bring to shew her a most beautiful gold fillagree work-box
set with precious stones, which one of the maids of honour about
court, who was her godmother, had given her a few days before. This
lady had saved a few of the queen's hairs very carefully, and had had
them placed in a little circle of crystal in the middle of the box,
and they were set round with the most beautiful rubies. It was a
present worthy of a Fairy Godmother, and certainly the donor was the
daughter of a duchess, which perhaps is the nearest thing to being a
fairy.

You will be shocked, my dear readers, to hear that the account of this
box was as disagreeable as a dose of physic to poor Julia. Nay it was
_worse_ than physic, for a peppermint-drop can take the taste of that
away in a minute. But not all the peppermint-drops in a chymist's shop
could take away the taste of the fillagree-box from Julia. She had
been thinking before of showing all the treasures of her boudoir to
her little friends next day; but this horrid box was like a great
cloud closing over her sunshine. She knew she was naughty, but she was
so in the habit of being selfish she could not conquer her peevish
vexation. Annette wondered what could be the matter, and her Governess
sighed as she perceived her face clouded, even when she was repeating
her evening prayer; but no questioning could extract from her what was
amiss.

Oh, what a condition for a child to go to sleep in! Euphrosyne was
greatly annoyed. "They are not correcting her evil dispositions,"
cried she. "I do not allow that this has anything to do _necessarily_
with being very rich."

Ah, good Fairies, you do not know "How hardly shall they that have
riches enter into the kingdom of Heaven."

Look now at that young face, asleep on a downy pillow, in a bed richly
hung with crimson drapery, in a room filled with luxuries, glowing
with warmth and comfort. You are shocked that the heart within should
be disturbed by nasty little envyings, that made the good things she
possessed of no value to her. 'Tis well; but remember we are all rich
by comparison. Go to the poor frost-bitten wayside beggar-child, my
little readers; bring him into your comfortable drawing-room, which
you sit in every day and think nothing about, and he will fancy he has
got