Lucy (Chapter_20)

go home with me, to live, I hope, not to die." [Cheered by such a promise, Lucy was better able, to support the kind stranger, but they could not have reached this home for many hours, had not a hack, fortunately passed. Mrs Fairly, for that was the stranger's name, beckon'd to the driver, who immediately stopped and assisted them both into the carriage. Mrs Fairly comforted her poor companion with assurances that the infant might be recovered, and instantly, taking it in her arms, began to rub it, this she continued during their ride, which was more than two miles. Her house stood on a lonely spot, distant from any other dwelling, and was handsome in its external appearance. The door was opened by a negro-woman, and with her assistance Mrs Fairly reached an apartment in a back-building, where there was a good fire. She bade Lucy sit by the fire, while she ordered a tub of cold water,

into which she plunged her own foot, and immersed the little baby, after stripping off its clothes--Whilst the negro woman rubbed her ancle, with spirits, she took the child in her lap, and by friction and other simple means, soon restored its suspended animation. She pour'd a little spirits down its throat and to the inexpressible joy of the fond mother, it again breathed, it half opened its little eyes, and when put to the breast, it eagerly imbibed its natural food.-In this unhoped for transport--self was entirely forgotten. She no longer remembered the agonies she had endured, or her still helpless and desolate condition, --she only remembered --she only felt she was a mother! [The tea-table was spread, and the half-famished[ Lucy] wanderer, thankfullly obeyed the injunctions of her hostess, to eat and drink freely. The warm tea renovated her drooping frame, and brought back some colour to her lips and cheeks. Her bonnet and old cloak had been laid aside, and her luxuriant locks fell in profusion over her beautifully formed person. Mrs Fairly gazed with

surprise on so much loveliness, and as she gazed, other thoughts than those suggested by benevolence, rose in her mind. In offering a nights shelter, to the wretched being, who had so kindly assisted her, she had obeyed an impulse of gratitude and humanity, which even habitual vice cannot completely destoy in the human-heart. She had no thought beyond a temporary shelter, which she gave in return for the kindness received. But now, when in this miserable out cast, she discovered a young woman, of surpassing beauty, joy, shown in her eyes, such as a miser would feel, who on picking up an old leather purse, should on opening it, find it full of gold. "And a purse of gold," thought she to herself, "will this girl prove to me!" She eagerly enquired, from whence she came, and by what misfortune she was reduced to such misery. The blush of shame, which crimsoned the pale cheek, the hesitating accent, the timid, modest air,

of the lovely girl, were confirmations strong, that her artless story, was a true one. That she was from the country--that the poor babe she held in her arms, was the fruit of a single error, that she had been weak--but was not vicious.--[Encouraged by the eager attention with which she was listen'd to and her heart opened by the kindness which beamed in the countenance of her auditor, Lucy detailed the minutest circumstances of her birth and parentage--of her love and frailty, with a face animated with tenderness, glowing with injurious shame, and even her repentant tears, added beauty, if not brilliancy to her soft blue eyes, as from time to time she raised her dark-lashes, to look up at her Benefactoress. Her Benefactoress? Poor Lucy! Strange that any heart, could listen to such a tale, and while it listened, could plan the destruction, of so much loveliness and innocence! But alas, this was too truly the case, and the very circumstances, most calculated to awaken

Mother

With all these evil qualities she was not destitute of genius. She had a pleasing vein of wit and a turn for poetry; she sparkled in company and by raillery and sprightly talents could enliven conversation. She had the art of passing with wonderful celerity from the most serious to the lightest subjects; from a grave and modest strain to the most gay and airy and tender. In a word vivacity and elegant accomplishments were hers in an eminent degree. Sallust's conspiracy of Citaline