Where the blue stream reflected flowerets pale, A fluttering butterfly, with many a freak, Dipped into dancing bells, and spread its sail Of azure pinions, edged with jetty streak. I snatched it passing; but a pinion frail, Ingrained with mealy gold, I chanced to break. The mangled insect, ill deserving bane, Falls in the hollow of a lily new. My tears drop after it, but drop in vain. The cup, embalmed with azure airs and dew, And flowery dust and grains of fragrant seed, Can ne'er revive it from the fatal deed. So guileless nymphs attract some traiterous eye, So by the spoiler crushed, reject all joy and die. Now that the pomp of composition was over, I began to think I had treated the owner of the garden extremely ill. I felt myself guilty of little less than theft, and was deliberating on what I ought to do, when an old, grey-headed peasant came running towards me from the garden. 'Miss!' cried he, 'have you seen any body pass this way with a parcel of flowers; for some confounded thief has just robbed me of all I had?' I raised myself a little to reply, and he perceived the flowers underneath. 'Odd's life!' cried he, 'so you are the thief, are you? How dare you, hussey, commit such a robbery?' 'I am no hussey, and 'tis no robbery,' cried I; 'and trust me, you shall neither have apology nor compensation. Hussey, indeed! Sir, it was all your own fault for leaving that uncouth gate of your's open. I am afraid, Sir, that you are a shockingly ignorant old man.' The peasant was just about to seize me, when Stuart ran up, and prevented him. They had then some private conversation together, and I saw Stuart give him a guinea. The talismanic touch of gold struck instant peace, and a compact of amity followed. Indeed, I have ever found, that even my face, though a heroine's, and with all its dimples, blushes, and glances, could never do half so much for me as the royal face on a bit of gold. The peasant was now very civil, and invited us to rest in his cottage. Thither we repaired, and found his daughter, a beautiful young woman, just preparing the dinner. I felt instantly interested in her fate. I likewise felt hungry; so calling her aside, I told her that I would be happy to have a dinner, and, if possible, a bed, at the cottage; and that I would recompense her liberally for them, as I was a lady of rank, but at present in great affliction. She said she would be very glad to accommodate me, if her father would permit her; and she then went to consult him. After a private conference between them and Stuart, she told me that her father was willing to let me remain. So we soon agreed upon the terms, and a village was at hand, where Stuart and Betterton might dine and sleep. Before they left me, they made me give a solemn promise not to quit the cottage, till both of them should return, the next morning.