“My dear daughter,” said she to Helena, “have you at this instant any wish that I can gratify?--Ask any thing you please, the fairy Goodwill shall contrive to get it for you in a trice. You have thought of a wish at this moment, I know, by your eyes, by your blush. Nay, do not hesitate. Do you doubt me because I do not appear before you in the shape of a little ugly woman, like Cinderella’s godmother? or do you despise me because you do not see a wand waving in my hand?--‘Ah, little skilled of fairy lore!’ know that I am in possession of a talisman that can command more than ever fairy granted. Behold my talisman,” continued she, drawing out her purse, and showing the gold through the net-work. “Speak boldly, then,” cried she to Helena, “and be obeyed.” “Ah, mamma,” said Helena, “I was not thinking of what fairies or gold can give; but you can grant my wish, and if you will let me, I will whisper it to you.” Lady Delacour stooped to hear her daughter’s whisper. “Your wish is granted, my own grateful, charming girl,” said her mother. Helena’s wish was, that her mother could be reconciled to her good aunt, Margaret Delacour. Her ladyship sat down instantly, and wrote to Mrs. Delacour. Helena was the bearer of this letter, and Lady Delacour promised to wait upon this excellent old lady as soon as she should return to town. In the meantime her ladyship’s health rapidly improved under the skilful care of Dr. X----: it had been terribly injured by the ignorance and villany of the wretch to whom she had so long and so rashly trusted. The nostrums which he persuaded her to take, and the immoderate use of opium to which she accustomed herself, would have ruined her constitution, had it not been uncommonly strong. Dr. X---- recommended it to her ladyship to abstain gradually from opium, and this advice she had the resolution to follow with uninterrupted perseverance.