“But I will try, mother, indeed I will,” said Peggy. “Do not be afraid,” said Louisa, “there is but little to learn, and I have plenty of time to teach you.” Very little more passed during this visit: the ladies took leave, Louisa promising to come again shortly. She kept her word, and came regularly for several days, to instruct little Peggy in her part. Finding her very docile, she taught her to spell, and heard her read. The child’s mother was delighted, and Miss Louisa was no less so, with the progress of her pupil; for she hoped to surprise and please her dear mamma, by letting Peggy read to her at some future time. My readers may suppose, that I was not unnoticed by Miss Louisa. Peggy displayed all my accomplishments to her young benefactress, who was very much pleased with me, and who did not fail to expatiate on my tameness, &c. to her friend Amelia. The latter no sooner heard that I was something uncommon, than she wished to possess me; for Amelia estimated the value of things from their scarcity, rather than any other quality they possessed. CHAP. VIII. Mrs. Carleton’s visit to Mrs. Wyndham was protracted longer than she at first intended. At length the great fête-day arrived. Every thing went on in the best manner possible. Miss Wyndham’s generosity in clothing the poor children, and her taste in the judicious arrangement of her part of the entertainment, were talked of throughout the neighbourhood; yet, for my part, I discovered nothing so meritorious in the young lady’s conduct, nor could I forbear thinking Louisa Carleton much more entitled to admiration, even on this occasion; for she bestowed her time and attention in teaching little Peggy. And I afterwards learned that it was she, who, with the assistance of one of her sisters, had entirely made the children’s dresses; for Amelia was neither able nor willing to work for any one, so that all the praises bestowed on her, were, in reality, due to Louisa. However, I am sure each was rewarded according to her own taste:—Amelia with the applause of the multitude, Louisa with the more grateful, though less pompous testimony of her own heart. The grand business of the _fête_ was no sooner over, than Amelia’s thoughts recurred to me, and she accompanied Louisa, on the following evening, to the cottage. I shall pass over the poor woman’s expressions of gratitude, (which Miss Amelia did not receive with that openness and affability I had so often observed in Louisa on similar occasions,) and continue my narrative. Amelia asked to see me. “It is a Robin,” said she: “does it sing?” “Yes, Miss,” said Peggy; “perhaps, if you stay a little while, you will hear him.” I was not willing to disappoint my little mistress, so I presently after began to sing. “That is not the song of a Robin,” said Amelia. “So I have often observed,” returned Louisa; “but it is a very sweet song, and he is a very nice little bird, I think.”