s offered for her
restoration.

Sophia and Amanda were inconsolable, and Susan was ordered to be
discharged before Mr. Darnley returned home, which he did not for more
than a month after the melancholy circumstance happened, as he was not
satisfied with sending messengers in pursuit of his lost treasure, but
went himself to all those wretched parts of London where poverty and
vice are known to dwell, in the hope of meeting the object of his
solicitude, and at length gave up the interesting pursuit, because he
found his health rendered him incapable of continuing it.

Nine tedious months passed away without any intelligence of the lost
Eliza; and time, which is a general remedy for all misfortunes, had
not softened the severity of their affliction. Mrs. Collier had
engaged a lady to be governess to her nieces, as her attention had
been wholly devoted to her unfortunate brother, whose agitated state
of mind had produced a bodily complaint which demanded her unremitting
care and tenderness.

Although Emily loved Eliza with the fondest affection, yet her grief
was much less poignant than either of her sisters', as she could not
accuse herself with being accessory to her loss.

"Never, never shall I forgive myself," Sophia would often say, "for
having deviated from my dear father's command! Oh, so good and
indulgent as he is to us, how wicked it was to transgress his will! I
was the eldest, and ought to have known better, and my poor Eliza is
the sufferer for my crime!"

Thus would she bewail her folly and imprudence, until, agonized by the
torture of her own reflections, she would sink down in a chair quite
exhausted, and burst into a flood of tears.

While the family at Darnley Hall were thus a prey to unavailing
sorrow, the lovely little girl who had occasioned it was beginning to
grow more reconciled to the cruelty of her destiny, and to support her
different mode of life with resignation and composure. She had
acquired such a degree of skill in the art of lacemaking (which was
the business her employer followed) as generally to be able to perform
the tasks which were allotted her; and if it so happened she was
incapable of doing it, Sally Butchell, a child almost two years older
than herself, of whom she was very fond, was always kind enough to
complete it for her.

The cottage in which the vile Mrs. Bullen resided was situated about a
quarter of a mile from High Wycombe; and whenever she was obliged to
go to