Here Miss Dolly ceased reading; and all her hearers sat some little time silent, and then expressed their great joy that Caelia and Chloe were at last happy; for none of them had been able to refrain from tears whilst they were otherwise.On which Miss Jenny Peace begged them to observe from this story, the miserable effects that attend deceit and treachery: 'For,' continued she, 'you see you could not refrain from tears, only by imagining what Chloe must feel after her wickedness (by whichindeed she lost the very happiness she intended treacherously to gain); nor could she enjoy one moment's peace, till by confessing her fault, and heartily repenting of it, her mind was restored to its former calm and tranquility.' Miss Dolly thanked Miss Jenny for her remarks; but Miss Lucy Sly was most sensibly touched with this story, as cunning had formerly entirely possessed HER mind; and said, that if her companions were not weary at present of their arbour, she would now recount to them the history of her life, as this story was a proper introduction to it.
THE DESCRIPTION OF MISS LUCY SLY.
Miss Lucy Sly was of the same age as Miss Dolly Friendly; but shorter, at least, by half the head.She was generally called a pretty girl, from having a pair of exceeding fine black eyes, only with the allay of something cunning in their look.She had a high forehead, and very good curling black hair.She had a sharp high nose, and a very small mouth.Her complexion was but indifferent, and the lower part of her face ill- turned, for her chin was too long for due proportion.
THE LIFE OF MISS LUCY SLY.
From the time I was two years old, (said Miss Lucy) my mamma was so sickly, that she was unable to take any great care of me herself, and I was left to the care of a governess, who made it her study to bring me to do what she had a mind to have done, without troubling her head what induced me so to do.And whenever I did anything wrong, she used to say it was the foot-boy, and not miss, that was naughty.Nay, she would say, it was the dog, or the cat, or anything she could lay the blame upon, sooner than own it was me.I thought this pure, that I was never in fault; and soon got into a way of telling any lies, and of laying my own faults on others, since I found I should be believed.I remember once, when I had broken a fine china-cup, that I artfully got out of the scrape, and hid the broken cup in the foot-boy's room.He was whipped for breaking it; and the next day whilst I was at play about the room, I heard my governess sayto a friend who was with her, "Yesterday Miss Lucy broke a china-cup; but the artful little hussy went and hid it in the foot-boy's room, and the poor boy was whipped for it.I don't believe there was ever a girl of her age that had half her cunning and contrivance." I knew by her tone of voice, and her manner of speaking, that she did not blame me in her heart, but rather commended my ingenuity.And I thought myself so wise, that I could thus get off the blame from myself, that I every day improved in new inventions to save myself, and have others punished in my place.
'This life of endeavouring to deceive I led till I came to school.But here I found that I could not so well carry on my little schemes; for I was found out and punished for my own faults; and this created in me a hatred to my companions.For whatever Miss I had a mind to serve as I used to serve our foot-boy, in laying the blame falsely upon her, if she could justify herself, and prove me in the wrong, I was very angry with her, for daring to contradict me, and not submitting as quietly to be punished wrongfully, as the foot-boy was forced to do.
'This is all I know of my life hitherto.'
Thus ended Miss Lucy Sly: and Miss Jenny Peace commended Miss Lucy for her free confession of her faults, and said, 'She doubted not but she would find the advantage of amending, and endeavouring to change a disposition so very pernicious to her own peace and quiet, as well as to that of all her friends;' but they now obeyed the summons of the supper- bell, and soon after retired to rest.
