quence she
possessed, as an only child and a great heiress; and although he had
appeared so lately to act under a very different impression, yet it was
very possible that he had only done so because he was out of temper
himself, and, now his mind was become tranquil again, he had repented of
his conduct, and been anxious to prevent his children from following his
example in this respect.

The more Matilda thought of this, the more fully she fixed it in her mind
as an article of belief; but yet there was something in the calm, firm
tones of Mr. Harewood, when he spoke to her, and in his present open, yet
unbending countenance, when he happened to cast his eyes towards her, which
rendered her unsatisfied with the answer she thus gave her own internal
inquiries; and although she had been exceedingly angry with him, for
presuming to speak to her, she yet felt as if his esteem, and indeed his
forgiveness, were necessary for her happiness; and her pride, thus
strengthened, contended with her fears and consciousness of guilt and
folly; and while she resolved inwardly to keep up her dignity with the
young ones, she yet, from time to time, cast an anxious eye towards her
new monitor.

In a short time, to Matilda's great relief, Mr. Harewood stepped into
the library to get a book; and the children, in the hope that, when he
returned, he would kindly indulge them, either by reading to them, or
relating occasionally such anecdotes or observations as the work he read
might furnish him with, left their seats, and pressed round the place
where their parents were sitting.

Matilda did not like to be left alone, nor did she feel as if she had a
right to be held as a child among the rest: again her pride and her
repentance had a great struggle, and she knew not to which she should give
the preference, for her heart swelled alike with pride and sorrow; she
moved towards the same place, and sought, in the bustle of the moment, to
divert the painful feeling which oppressed her.

In a few moments, Mr. Harewood was heard to shut the library-door; and as,
of course, he might be expected to re-enter very soon, and would now be
much nearer to her than he had been, and would certainly adopt some more
decided kind of conduct and language towards her, Matilda became again
extremely desirous of knowing what he really had said about her, and she
two or three times essayed to speak; but a little remaining modesty, which
was nearly all the good whi