"Nothing is more essential to the healthful developement of infant mind, than congenial society. A child should associate with his _fellows_, and while the bodily organs are kept in wholesome exercise, the mental energies are thus directed to the natural objects of childish pursuit. To this end children should be allowed to consort together, and exhibit the true bearings of individual character, uncontrolled by the bias which is given to youth by a constant and injurious companionship with adults. In fine, a child should always be provided with at least one playmate of his own age." This paragraph rested on the mother's mind, and was the Mordecai of her peace. Her intercourse with the neighbouring gentry was reduced to an occasional exchange of morning visits, which afforded no opportunity of introducing her boy to the children of her acquaintance, and there seemed to be no probability of his having brother or sister with whom to associate at home. In this dilemma Mrs. Hartland often turned in her mind the temporary adoption of a peasant-child, who might serve the desired purpose; but as frequently rejected the idea, through dread of vulgar habits and low thoughts coming in contact with the mind of her son. While anxiously ruminating on what was best to be done, it happened that Mr. Ackland, a gentleman who lived a few miles distant from Henbury, called to enquire for the family, and in the course of conversation of that miscellaneous kind which morning visits usually supply, turned to Mrs. Hartland, and asked whether she had been to Hazle-moor? "Why to that desolate heath?" replied she. "I should not prefer a drive to Hazle-moor for any beauty which that part of the country can boast." "No," said Mr. Ackland, "the landscape is certainly not very alluring; but you have heard of the lovely little Spaniard. Have you not?" "I have not the least idea of what you allude to," answered Mrs. Hartland. "What Spaniard do you speak of?" "Oh!" replied Mr. Ackland, "I thought that every one within a circuit of twenty miles at least had heard of our beautiful infant stranger. It is upwards of a week since a troop of gipsies appeared upon Hazle-moor, and there they might have held their station ever since without exciting particular attention, were it not for the extraordinary perfections of a child, who has in some mysterious manner fallen into their hands. Two or three portrait-painters have already come to take likenesses of the fascinating little creature; and the wild community to which she belongs having discovered the profit which may be realized through her means, are daily making money by exhibiting the symmetry of her baby-form to all who are prompted by curiosity to visit this tiny enchantress." "Who is she?" said Mrs. Hartland.