rself in this cold climate."

Ellen threw the pinafore she was going to put on over the neck of the
shuddering Matilda, and then ran nimbly before them towards the globe, on
which Edmund was going to lecture, neither of them looking in Matilda's
face; but Charles, who just then happened to enter, perceived that silent
tears were coursing each other down her cheek. His compassion was moved; he
apprehended that the cold, which he felt himself to be severe, had made her
ill, and he inquired what was the matter with her, in a tone of real
commiseration.

"I am so--so very ignorant," said Matilda, sobbing.

"Oh, that's it!" cried Charles, gaily; "then you and I may shake hands, for
I am ignorant too."

"Oh no, European children know every thing, but I am little better than a
negro; I find what your mamma said was very true--I know nothing at all."

"Dear Matilda, how can you say so?" said Edmund; "though you have not read
as much as we have, yet you have seen a great deal more than any of us,
and you are the youngest of the company, you know. Consider, you have
crossed the Atlantic Ocean, seen groves of orange-trees and spices grow,
and the whole process of sugar-making. You know the inside of a ship as
well as a house, and we never saw any thing better than a sloop, or sailed
any where but on the Thames."

"Besides," said Charles, "you have seen monkeys and parrots, and many other
creatures, in their own country, and many curious fish on your voyage. Oh,
you understand natural history much better than we do."

"And if you understand nothing at all," added Ellen, kindly pressing her
hand, "mamma says it is only _wilful_ ignorance that is blameable."

Matilda wept still more while the children thus tried to comfort her. This
distressed them all; but they rejoiced to see their parents enter the room,
persuaded that they would be able to comfort her better, and Ellen
instantly besought their attention to the subject by relating as much of
the foregoing conversation as was necessary.

"No, no, it is not exactly _that_ I am crying for," said Matilda,
interrupting her; "it is because I have been so very naughty, and you are
all so--so--so----"

"So what, my dear?" said Mr. Harewood, drawing her towards him, and placing
her by his side, in the same manner he was accustomed to let Ellen stand,
when she was much in his favour.

The action, however kindly meant, for a time redoubled her tears; and the
children, understandi