husband to impress on the yielding minds of her boys, who (happier than their sister) had never left her, that a season of worldly humiliation is more safe and blessed than one of worldly prosperity-while their Welch cottage and wild mountain garden had been converted, by her resources, and her example, into a scene of such rural industry and innocent amusement, that they could no longer regret the splendid house and grounds which they had been obliged to resign. The grandmother, indeed, had never ceased to mourn and to murmur; and, to her, the hope of seeing a return of brighter days, by means of a new partnership, was beyond measure delightful. But she was doomed to be disappointed, through those errors in the child of her adoption which she had at lest encouraged, if she had not occasioned.

It was with even clamorous delight, that Annabel, after this absence of a few months, was welcomed by her brothers the parents' welcome was of a quieter, deeper nature; while the grandmother's first solicitude was to ascertain how she looked; and having convinced herself that she was returned handsomer than ever, her joy was as loud as that of the boys." Do come hither, Bell," said one of her brothers-" we have so much to show you! The old cat has such nice kittens!"" Yes; and my rabbits have all young ones!" cried another." And I and mamma," cried the third boy, "have put large stones into the bed of the mountain rill; so now it makes such a nice noise as it flows over them! Do come, Bell; do, pray, come with us!"-But the evening duties were first to be performed; and performed they were, with more than usual solemnity; but after them Annabel had to eat her supper; and she was so engrossed in relating her adventures in the coach, and with describing the attentions of her companions, that her poor brothers were not attended to. In vain did her mother say, "Do, Annabel, go with your brothers! and add, "Go now, for it is near their bed time!" She was too fond of hearing herself talk, and of her grandmother's flatteries, to be willing to leave the room; and though her mother was disappointed at her selfishness, she could not bear to chide her on the first night of her return.

When Annabel was alone with her grandmother, she ventured to communicate to her what a fearful consciousness of not having done right had led her to conceal from her parents; and, after relating all that had passed relative to the fruit and flowers, she repeated the cruel question of the old man," Are you not the daughter of Mr. Burford the bankrupt?" and owned what her reply was: on which her grandmother exclaimed, with great emotion, Unthinking girl! you know not what injury you may have done your father!" She then asked for a particular description of the persons of the old men, saying, "Well, well, it cannot be helped now-I may be mistaken; but be sure not to tell your mother what you have told me." For some days after Annabel's return, all went on well; and their domestic felicity would have been so complete, that Burford and his wife would have much disliked any idea of change, had their income been sufficient to give their boys good education; but, as it was only just suffi**cient for their maintenance, they looked forward with anxious expectation to the arrival of a summons to London, and to their expected residence there. Still the idea of leaving their present abode was really painful to all, save Annabel and her grandmother. They thought the rest of the family devoid of proper spirit, and declared that living in Wales was not living at all.

But a stop was now put to eager anticipations on the one hand, or of tender regrets on the other; for while Burford was expecting daily to receive remittances from Sir James Alberry, to enable him to transport himself and his family to the metropolis, that gentleman wrote to him as follows:

Sir,

"All connection between us is forever at end; and I have given the share in my business, which was intended for you, to the worthy man, who has so long solicited it. I thought I had done you injustice, sir; I wished therefore to make you amends. But I find you what you are represented to be, a frau lulent bankrupt ; and your certificate now will never be signed. Should you wonder what has occasioned this change in my feelings and pro

ceedings, 1 am at liberty to inform you that your daughter travelled in a stage coach, a few days ago, with your two principal creditors; and I am desired to add, that chi dren and fools speak truth.

"JAMES ALBERRY."

When Burford had finished reading this letter it fell from his grasp, and, clasping his hands convulsively together, he exclaimed, "Ruined and disgraced for ever!" then rushed into his own chamber. His terrified wife followed him with the unread letter in her hand, looking the enquiries which she could not utter.-"Read that," he replied, "and see that Sir James Alberry deems me a villain !” She did read, and with a shaking frame; but it was not the false accusation of her husband, nor the loss of the expected partnership, that thus agitated her firm nerves, and firmer mind; it was the painful conviction, that Annabel, by some means unknown to her, had been the cause of this mischief to her father;-a conviction which considerably increased Burford's agony, when she pointed out the passage in Sir James's letter alluding to Annabel, who was immediately summoned, and desired to explain Sir James's mysterious meaning. "Dear me! papa," cried she, changing colour, "I am sure, if I had thought, I am sure I could not think,-nasty, ill-natured old man! I am sure I only said—.” "But what did ?' cried you say her agitated father." I can explain all," said his mother, who had entered uncalled for, and read the letter. She then repeated what Annabel had told, but softening it as much as she could ;-however, she told enough to show the agonizing parents that their child was not only the cause of disappointment and disgrace to them, but a mean, vain-glorious, and despicable liar! The only

amends which you can now make us," said Burford," is to tell the whole truth, unhappy child! and then we must see what can be done; for my reputation must be cleared, even at the painful expense of exposing you." Nor was it long before the mortified Annabel, with a heart awakened to contrition by her mother's gentle repoofs, and the tender teachings of a motner's love, made an ample confession of all that had passed in the stage coach ; on hearing which,

Burford instantly resolved to set off for London. But how was he to get thither? He had no money; as he had recently been obliged to pay some debts of his still thoughtless and extravagant mother; nor could he bear to borrow of his neighbour what he was afraid he might be for some time unable to return. "Cruel, unprincipled girl!" cried he, as he paced their little room in agony; "see to what misery thou hast reduced they father! However, I must go to London immediately, though it be on foot."--" Well, really, I don't see any very great harm in what the poor child did," cried his mother, distressed at seeing Annabel's tears. "It was very trying to her to be reproached with her father's bankruptcy and her fallen fortunes; and it was very natural for her to say as she did."-" Natural!" exclaimed the indignant mother; "natural for my child to utter falsehood on falsehood, and at the instigation of a mean vanity! Natural for my child to shrink from the avowal of poverty, which was unattended with disgrace! Oh! make us not more wretched than we were before, by trying to lessen Annabel's faults in her own eyes! Our only comfort is the hope that she is ashamed of herself."But neither her shame nor penitence," cried Burford, "will give me the quickest means of repairing the effects of her error. However, as I cannot ride, I must walk, to London ;" while his wife, alarmed at observing the dew of weakness which stood upon his brow, and the faint flush which overspead his cheek, exclaimed, "But will not writing to Sir James be sufficient ?"-"No. My appearance will corroborate my assurances too well. The only writing necessary will be a detail from Annabel of all that passed in the coach, and a confession of her fault."--" What! exact from your child such a disgraceful avowal, William !" cried the angry grandmother.--" Yes; for it is a punishment due to her transgression; and she may think herself happy if its consequences end here."..." Here's a fuss, indeed, about a little harmless puffing and white lying!"-"Harmless!" replied Burford, in tone of indigna tion, while his wife exclaimed, in the agony of a wounded spirit, "Oh! mother, mother! do not make us deplore, more than we already do, that fatal hour when we consented to surrender our dearest duties at the call of compas

sion for your sorrows, and entrusted the care of our child's precious soul to your erroneous tenderness! But, I trust that Annabel deeply feels her sinfulness, and that the effects of a mistaken education may have been counteracted in time."

The next day, having procured the necessary document from Annabel, Burford set off on his journey, intending to travel occasionally on the tops of coaches, being well aware that he was not in a state of health to walk the whole way.

In the meanwhile, Sir James Alberry, the London merchant, to whom poor Burford was then pursuing his long and difficult journey, was beginning to suspect that he had acted hastily; and, perhaps, unjustly. He had written his distressing letter in the moments of his first indignation, on hearing the statement of the two creditors; and he had moreover written it under their dictation ;--and, as the person who had long wished to be admitted into partnership with him happened to call at the same time, and had taken advantage of Burford's supposed delinquency, he had, without further hesitation, granted his request. But as Sir James, though a rash was a kind-hearted, man, when his angry feelings had subsided, the rebound of them was in favour of the poor accused; and he reproached himself for having condemned and punished a supposed culprit, before he was even heard in his defence. There fore, having invited Burford's accusers to return to dinner, he dismissed them as soon as he could, and went in search of his wife, wishing, but not expecting, his hasty proceeding to receive the approbation of her candid spirit and discriminating judgment. "What is all this?" cried Lady Alberry, when he had done speaking. "Is it possible that, on the evidence of these two men, who, have shown themselves inveterate enemies of the poor bankrupt, you have broken your promise to him, and pledged it to another?" -"Yes; and my letter to Burford is gone. I wish I had shown it to you before it went; but, surely Burford's child could not have told them falsehoods."-"That depends on her education."—" True, Jane; and she was brought up, you know, by that paragon, her mother, who cannot do wrong."-."--"No; she was brought up by that weak woman.