My master came in, and I had no mistrust in the world; and he kissed

each of them; but looked more wishfully on Miss Goodwin, than on any of

the others; but I thought nothing just then: Had she been called Miss

Godfrey, I had hit upon it in a trice.

When we went from them, he said, Which do you think the prettiest of

those misses? Really, sir, replied I, it is hard to say: Miss Booth is a

pretty brown girl, and has a fine eye; Miss Burdoff has a great deal

of sweetness in her countenance, but is not so regularly featured. Miss

Nugent is very fair: and Miss Goodwin has a fine black eye, and is,

besides, I think, the genteelest shaped child; but they are all pretty.

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The maid led them into the garden, to shew them the beehives; and Miss

Goodwin made a particular fine courtesy to my master; and I said, I

believe miss knows you, sir; and, taking her by the hand, I said, Do you

know this gentleman, my pretty dear?--Yes, madam, said she; it is my own

dear uncle. I clasped her in my arms: O why did you not tell me, sir,

said I, that you had a niece among these little ladies? And I kissed

her, and away she tript after the others.

But pray, sir, said I, how can this be?--You have no sister nor brother,

but Lady Davers.--How can this be?

He smiled: and then I said, O my dearest sir, tell me now the truth,

Does not this pretty miss stand in a nearer relation to you, than as

a niece?--I know she does! I know she does! And I embraced him as he

stood. 'Tis even so, my dear, replied he; and you remember my sister's

good-natured hint of Miss Sally Godfrey? I do well, sir, answered I.

But this is Miss Goodwin. Her mother chose that name for her, said he,

because she should not be called by her own.

Well, said I, excuse me, sir; I must go and have a little prattle

with her. I'll send for her in again, replied he; and in she came in a

moment. I took her in my arms, and said, O my charming dear! will you

love me?--Will you let me be your aunt? Yes, madam, answered she, with

all my heart! and I will love you dearly: But I mustn't love my uncle.

Why so? said he. Because, replied she, you would not speak to me at

first! And because you would not let me call you uncle (for it seems she

was bid not, that I might not guess at her presently): and yet, said the

pretty dear, I had not seen you a great while, so I hadn't.




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