sitting,
raised by pillows, she offered the broth to her, saying--"Come, Zebby, let
me feed you with this nice food--it will do you good."

The warm fume of the basin was offensive to the invalid--"Me no likee
brothies," said she; and as it was not instantly removed, she unhappily
pushed away the plate, and turned the scalding contents of the basin
completely into the bosom of poor Matilda, as she reclined towards her.

Shrieking with pain, and stamping with anger, Matilda instantly cried out
that she was murdered, and the wretch should be flayed alive.

Ellen, shocked, terrified, and truly sorry, called out in an agony--"Mamma,
dear mamma, come here this moment! poor Matilda is scalded to death!"

The nurse, the servants, and Mrs. Harewood herself, were in a few moments
with the sufferer; and the latter, although she despatched the footman for
a surgeon, did not for a moment neglect the assistance and relief in her
own power to bestow; she scraped some white lead[1] into a little thick
cream, and applied it with a feather all over the scalded parts; and in a
very short time the excruciating pain was relieved, and the fire so well
drawn out by it, that when the surgeon arrived he made no change in the
application, but desired it might be persisted in, and said--"He had no
doubt of a cure being speedily obtained, if the patient were calm."

[1] The author has found this prescription very efficacious in
various cases of scalds.

During the former part of this time, Matilda continued to scream
incessantly, with the air of a person whose unmerited and intolerable
sufferings gave a right to violence; and even when she became comparatively
easy, she yet uttered bitter complaints against Zebby, as the cause of the
mischief; never taking into consideration her own share of it, nor
recollecting that she acted both thoughtlessly and stubbornly in neglecting
the advice of Ellen; and that although her principal motive was the
endeavour to benefit Zebby, yet there was a deficiency in actual kindness,
when she offered her broth it was impossible for the poor creature to
taste. Such, however, was the commiseration for her injury felt by all
those around her, that no one would, in the moment of her punishment, say a
word that could be deemed unkind; and soothings, rather than exhortations,
were all that were uttered.

At length the storm was appeased; Matilda, declaring herself much easier,
was laid upon the sofa, and a gentl