Rosamund had not read many books besides these; or if any, they had been only occasional companions: these were to Rosamund as old friends, that she had long known. I know not whether the peculiar cast of her mind might not be traced, in part, to a tincture she had received, early in life, from Walton and Wither, from John Bunyan and her Bible. Rosamund's mind was pensive and reflective, rather than what passes usually for _clever_ or _acute_. From a child she was remarkably shy and thoughtful--this was taken for stupidity and want of feeling; and the child has been sometimes whipt for being a _stubborn thing_, when her little heart was almost bursting with affection. Even now her grandmother would often reprove her, when she found her too grave or melancholy; give her sprightly lectures about good-humor and rational mirth; and not unfrequently fall a-crying herself, to the great discredit of her lecture. Those tears endeared her the more to Rosamund. Margaret would say, "Child, I love you to cry, when I think you are only remembering your poor dear father and mother;--I would have you think about them sometimes--it would be strange if you did not; but I fear, Rosamund--I fear, girl, you sometimes think too deeply about your own situation and poor prospects in life. When you do so, you do wrong--remember the naughty rich man in the parable. He never had any good thoughts about God, and his religion: and that might have been your case." Rosamund, at these times, could not reply to her; she was not in the habit of _arguing_ with her grandmother; so she was quite silent on these occasions--or else the girl knew well enough herself, that she had only been sad to think of the desolate condition of her best friend, to see her, in her old age, so infirm and blind. But she had never been used to make excuses, when the old lady said she was doing wrong. The neighbors were all very kind to them. The veriest rustics never passed them without a bow, or a pulling off of the hat--some show of courtesy, awkward indeed, but affectionate--with a "Good-morrow, madam," or "young madam," as it might happen. Rude and savage natures, who seem born with a propensity to express contempt for anything that looks like prosperity, yet felt respect for its declining lustre. The farmers, and better sort of people, (as they are called,) all promised to provide for Rosamund when her grandmother should die. Margaret trusted in God and believed them. She used to say, "I have lived many years in the world, and have never known people, _good people_, to be left without some friend; a relation, a benefactor, a _something_. God knows our wants--that it is not good for man or woman to be alone; and he always sends us a helpmate, a leaning place, a _somewhat_." Upon this sure ground of experience, did Margaret build her trust in Providence. * * * * * CHAPTER II.