Agnes Merton was one day sitting in rather a melancholy mood on the swing in her garden, without swinging, and apparently lost in thought. It was a very odd place for meditation, but little girls do choose strange places sometimes; and Agnes at this moment felt very sad and uncomfortable on various accounts. Her papa had been in a bad state of health for some time, and Mrs. Merton’s attention had been so entirely occupied by him, that Agnes had been comparatively neglected by her mother. Her papa also could not be troubled with her, although he was very fond of her when he was well; sick people cannot bear the fatigue of children. Agnes had no sisters, and only a daily governess, who stayed with her but a short time, so that during the greater part of the day the poor child was left entirely to her own resources, and children so young as Agnes cannot always be reading. Agnes was at this time particularly unfortunate, as even her favourite cat, Sandy, had gone away about three weeks before, and nobody knew what had become of him. In this state of things every amusement seemed to have lost its zest, and after swinging a short time with the air of a person who was performing a task, rather than one who was enjoying a pleasure, Agnes sat, as we have before said, on her swing, apparently quite lost in thought, and, indeed, so absorbed that she started when her mother laid her hand upon her shoulder, and asked her if she would like to go to the Isle of Wight? It is impossible to describe what a change these few words produced in the feelings of the little girl, and she replied with her countenance beaming with delight, “Oh yes, mamma, very much indeed!” “Your papa,” resumed Mrs. Merton, “has been ordered to try change of air for the benefit of his health, and he has determined to go to the Isle of Wight for a week. At first he intended leaving you at home, but at my earnest desire he has consented to take you with us, upon condition of your giving no trouble.” “Oh, mamma,” interrupted Agnes, “I will not give any trouble at all.” “Perhaps you are hardly aware of what you are promising,” said Mrs. Merton, smiling; “your papa has determined on taking no servant with him, so that you must dress and undress yourself, and take care of your own clothes.” “But, mamma,” said Agnes, “shall we not have poor little Susan?” “No,” replied Mrs. Merton; “there will only be your papa, besides you and me: and as my time will be principally occupied in attending on him, you must contrive to take care of yourself.” Agnes laughed; “I think I am quite old enough to do that,” said she. “We shall see,” replied her mother. “You must also dine and take all your meals with us; as it will probably not be convenient for us to stay to take any refreshment at the time you have been used to dine.”