A VILLAGE STORY.

[Continued from p. 66.]

WE left Sarah full of plans for her own improvement, nor did they prove short-lived and vain, as had been expected. Sarah had been guided hitherto more by circumstances than the bent of her nature, though habits had been fast forming a second nature in her; but these habits were not so strong but that an effort could weaken them; and the emulation with which she had been inspired, assisted by better feelings, the whisperings of her heart and conscience, did bear her through difficulties and temptations which sometimes threatened to overturn all her good resolutions. Patience Bates was perhaps her greatest hindrance. Without having any feeling worthy of being called affection for Sarah, Patience had been so long used to have recourse to her whenever she felt more than usually vacant and idle, in the hope of being stirred up to some feeling of interest or excitement, that she missed her exceedingly, now she found she could not always have her at her command. She frequently stepped in, in the hope of finding a change; and by all the small skill in her power, argument, persuasion, ridicule, reproach, tried to bring her back to old ways. These would have had more effect had not Sarah been startled by the sad falsehood she had heard Patience tell to her mother, followed, as it had been, by Mrs. Croft's mysterious hint as to Miss Bernard's opinion of her. She was led thus to see Patience's character in a different light from what she had ever before thought of her. Yet old habits had still a great effect in keeping up and reviving from time to time former feelings. She felt naturally that there would be a kind of hypocrisy in seeming now to shrink from the society of one with whom so lately she had been content to spend the greater part of her time. She feared it was setting up for

spect, especially to one who had too long passed a wandering desultory sort of life, not to feel her long sittings every afternoon at her lace-pillow somewhat of a trial. The next day at two o'clock found her punctual to her appointment, and little Ellen soon introduced her into the garden, where Miss Bernard presently set her some light easy task, in order to put her in the way of her new employment; for it may easily be supposed she knew little enough of gardening. Several of the children were in the garden laughing and playing, or else helping their eldest sister in her plans, while Master Mark was busy with saw, and hammer, and plane, carrying out a scheme of his own for making a rustic basket, intended to contain bright flowers. The whole was very pleasant to Sarah, whose cheerful temper made her enter into any scene of enjoyment at once; and while she seemed only to be busy rooting up bindweed and groundsel, she was often glad of the opportunity her occupation afforded her for hiding her face to indulge in a little laugh at Master Mark's odd sayings, and the merry tricks of the little ones enjoying their play after a morning spent in the school-room. It was fine soft August weather, not too sultry for working, and the recent rains had brought on a great crop of weeds in Miss Bernard's new garden; so that Sarah seemed to have good prospect of future employment, which she was glad to think of.

It is not to be supposed but that the choice of Sarah for this task had caused some jealousy among her old acquaintance. Patience especially seemed to think herself ill-used that her friend should have been chosen; though work was so little to her taste, that it is certain she would never have endured the confinement of clearing a single border. However, Sarah was in too happy a mood to suffer these little vexations to trouble her; indeed, except Patience was talking to her, she seldom gave it a thought, and this appearance of immovable good humour added naturally enough to the peevish girl's ill-hu

66

to be severe on others made her feel ashamed at this complaint from Patience, and anxious to vindicate herself from the charge; "I am sure I have no great right to find fault with any body," she answered; "but I only say to you, Patience, what I say to myself if we have done ill till now, if we have been useless and idle, let us try to mend; and if ever you see me doing or saying what I ought not, why tell me of it, and I hope I shall not be angry." Oh, as for that," answered her companion, "I am not so clever at finding fault as some people. When I like any body, I don't see their faults or think about them; but stand up for all they do whether right or wrong. Why it was only the other day Susan Martin was saying how proud and conceited you had got since the new people had taken notice of you. 'Oh,' said I, 'leave her alone a little while till she has had time to come to herself, and she'll be the same as ever. Sarah Bolton is not the girl to neglect her old friends, or think herself better than her neighbours; how should she?'"

"And did Susan Martin call me proud and conceited?" said Sarah in a mortified tone. "What right has she to judge me?"

66

That's you that want to have your faults told you!" cried Patience, in rather an insulting tone. I would not be Susan Martin in your way at this minute. How red you are! but no wonder, it's what nobody likes; and I must say this for Susan, that if she can but have her laugh, she does not care what she says. There were myself, and Mary Turner, and Fanny Grey, and Kitty Field, and ever so many more; it was quite shameful the way she went on about you; and yet it was so funny, none of them could help laughing."

"Well, don't tell me what she said," cried Sarah hastily. "Perhaps I could not bear it, and should be very angry; and perhaps if she knew more about what I really think and feel about myself, she would talk differently. Though it's easy enough to find

something to laugh at in every body, if one chooses to look for it; and perhaps she herself, with her—” But here Sarah seemed to check herself; and resolutely applying her mind to her new and difficult pattern, she remained silent; and Patience, after waiting a few minutes in the vain hope of some renewal of the conversation, rose up and took her departure, leav. ing poor Sarah with some bitter feelings to contend against. Happily for her, she was alone, and had no one by, not even her father, to whom she could detail her grievances. An hour of silence and solitude employed by her hands in steady industry, and by her mind in subduing her first angry thoughts, and bringing them to a calmer and more reasonable frame, restored her to her good temper, and to a clearer view of the matter that had caused her so much irritation and displeasure. She found out that Susan Martin's fault need not be of so very dark a dye. Perhaps she was only heedless, instead of treacherous and ungrateful, as in the first heat she had thought her; besides, she reflected, I have often helped her to laugh at people for what did not deserve it a bit more than have done; so I must not complain if it comes to my turn.

Things went on for some weeks so much in the same course with Sarah and her old acquaintance, that there is no need to give any history of them. She maintained with tolerable consistency her resolution of spending her time more usefully; and Patience, on her part, alternately followed her old course of seeking to bring her back to idle ways, or absented herself from the cottage in a fit of sulky vexation. Miss Bernard watched the improvement in Sarah with great interest. When she called she had not often to complain of an untidy house; and Sarah seemed always so ready to take advice, and admit herself wrong when she really was so, that she was not afraid of giving it when it seemed to be needed. The lace, though a broad, handsome pattern, made progress; and Sarah need not now be

ashamed of comparing her work with that of the best lace-makers of her own age, as she had once been. It happened at this time that the young ladies at the manor-house were very busy bringing their garden into neat, trim order; and this was the more difficult task, that the ground had been long neglected, and consequently weeds were more than commonly abundant, hardly leaving the young garden plants and seeds that were to take their place room to grow. Old Mrs. Bernard, the grandmamma, seeing the gardening party almost overcome with the quantity of work to be done, proposed their calling in an assistant from the village, who might work under their superintendence; for the gardener had really too much on his hands in mowing the coarse grass into smoothness, and attending to the kitchen-garden in its present unruly state, to help in the children's borders.

66

Oh, grandmamma," exclaimed Miss Bernard, "that is the best plan! and I do think Sarah Bolton will help us very nicely."

"Sarah Bolton?" said the old lady. "Is not that one of the three that Mark used to laugh about?" "Yes, grandmamma; but the idle three are reduced to an idle pair now. Ask Mark himself, who is so critical, if she ever excites his industrious displeasure by strolling about when she ought to be busy. And as we should only want her in the afternoon, I am sure she could come very well, and perhaps like it a good deal better than sitting alone so much, which is rather a hard trial this beautiful weather."

"Well, my dear, get whom you like to help you." And with this permission Miss Bernard set off at once to propose her plan to Sarah, by whom it was received as the greatest pleasure and favour. Miss Bernard had always been so kind to her, had seemed so good and gentle in her manner, that to be near her every day, and work in a beautiful garden under her direction, did appear a great happiness in pro