When Anna related what had passed at the old man's cottage to Mrs.
Meridith, that lady said, "I am glad you answered her as you did, for
to return anger for anger is never of any use; and if she intended to
mortify you, she will find she has lost her aim."
"No," replied Anna, with a dejected air; "for she _has_ mortified me
greatly, by telling me my father was a beggar; sure he was not so low as
that, or my mother would not have married him?"
"He professed to be a gentleman," said Mrs. Meridith, "as your uncle has
told me, and that he was by no means an uneducated man; and his manners
were very prepossessing, but he was little known in this neighbourhood
till your mother married him."
"And where could she meet with him?" asked Anna, "I thought she knew
nobody out of this village."
"But little of the world," said Mrs. Meridith, "or she would not have
been taken with his specious appearance; but when about eighteen, she
went to return a visit she had received from a young friend at the
next town, and there she first knew him; he apprehended her to have
more money than she really had, I suppose, and she was handsome, and
agreeable, and perhaps at that time he did feel attached to her; it was
evident she was pleased with him, and he gained her regard by following
her home and making proposals to her father, who did not altogether
approve of it; so your uncle says, but he saw her attachment, and
therefore complied; a small house was taken for them in the village,
and I believe he was to have part of your grandfather's farm, who
promised to assist and instruct him in cultivating it; but he soon
discovered himself unworthy of so good a wife; and at length she died;
and you know the rest."
"My poor mother," said Anna, "how happy should I have been had you lived
to have afforded you some comfort! But I am ungrateful to _you_, my dear
mamma, in not saying I am happy _now_; and _you_ have had your sorrows
also; oh! may I be a comfort to you!"
"True, indeed, my Anna," returned Mrs. Meridith, "I have had my sorrows,
and deeply have I felt them!"
Anna had never heard more than that her kind benefactress and friend
had lost an affectionate husband, and three children; and she forbore
now, as on former occasions, to ask by what circumstances; yet her looks
strongly indicated her desire of hearing a more particular account of
them; and Mrs. Meridith, reading her wishes in her countenance, told
her that the next evening her uncle and aunt were with them, she would
endeavour to relate them, if she found the recollection not too painful.
"In the mean time," said she, "I am thinking of farmer Ward; it is clear
that he and his family are jealous of my attachment to your uncle and
aunt, but they do not consider that gratitude, and an early acquaintance
has caused me to notice them more than others; besides there is such
an upright integrity in your uncle, so free from any of the fulsome
flattery I have met with, and so much unaffected intelligence, that his
company is agreeable to me: and your aunt's likewise, who is a sensible,
well-informed woman, and our sentiments agree: she knows what the world
is from theory, I from experience; and I scruple not to say, I find them
both pleasant companions. But it is not likely farmer Ward and his wife
would be so; they were I know very differently brought up, and though
very honest, industrious people, would despise any other conversation
than that which related to their farm and its occupations; but I do not
ridicule them for this, I thought they were happy and satisfied; at
least they were so, till Envy reared her snaky head."
"Well, indeed," said Anna, interrupting her, "may Envy be thus
represented surrounded by snakes, for she is extending her malice to
every one she can reach, and instigating all in her power to do the same.
"It is Medusa, one of the three Gorgons, whose hair Minerva changed into
snakes for polluting her temple, who is thus represented," said Mrs.
Meridith; "but there is in one of the poets a very striking picture of
Envy, describing her as eating her own bowels; if I am not mistaken, it
is in Spenser's Fairy Queen, we will look this evening: but to return
to farmer Ward, I tell _you_ what I mean to do respecting him, because
I hope hereafter (if you find no ill effect arising from it) you will do
the same."
"Oh, mamma! could I but hope to do as you have done!"
"No flattery, my dear Anna," said Mrs. Meridith, smiling, "what I have
done may be done by any one who has the means in their power so amply
as I have; and if your means are lessened, your sphere of action will
be so likewise. I thought that I shewed no distinction between the two
farmers, except that I considered one as my friend; but I endeavoured to
be impartial in what was done for them as tenants; though I have sold
one farm and not the other, yet if farmer Ward wishes to buy his farm,
he shall have it on the same terms as your uncle had his."
At this moment Anna would have said, "is not this rewarding farmer
Wood for his malevolence to my uncle and me?" had she not recollected
that in every thing Mrs. Meridith knew best: but the change in her
countenance was not unnoticed by her kind friend, who said, "it is
better to stop the mouth of envy by acts of kindness, than by returning
their resentment; I should rather say, to endeavour to do it, for though
our intention may be good, their animosity may prevent its having the
desired effect."
Mrs. Meridith, therefore, took the first opportunity of asking farmer
Ward, when he came to pay his rent, if he would like to purchase his
farm?
"Oh Madam!" said he (malice still perceivable in the expression, though
the kindness of her manners had seemed to soften his), "I have not so
much money as my neighbour Campbell; I am not able to purchase it."
"I believe your land is of the same value as his," returned Mrs.
Meridith, "and you have both made it more valuable by your care and
cultivation; you have, therefore, a better right to enjoy the advantages
of it than any others."
"Are you determined then, Madam, to sell my farm also?" asked Ward with
apprehension on his countenance. "Certainly not, unless you are the
purchaser," said Mrs. Meridith. This unexpected kindness altered the
behaviour of the farmer; he made her a low bow, and thanked her with
great cordiality.
"I am in no hurry to sell it," continued Mrs. Meridith, "and will
readily promise you shall have the first offer of it when I do; and you
shall have it on the same terms that farmer Campbell had his."
"I own I should like to be the master of a farm as well as _he_, ma'am,"
said the man, whose heart was now quite opened by her generosity: "but I
must consult my wife and other friends about it; perhaps you would not
refuse to take the money by instalments."
"In any way most convenient to you, farmer Ward," she replied, with
her accustomed kindness, "for I have that opinion of your industry and
honesty, as not to fear your paying me; and I shall have my estate
bordered by two as flourishing farms as any in the country while farmer
Campbell and yourself are the owners of them, for I know you spare no
pains to make them so."
"Well, I declare I did not think you would have been so kind to _me_,
ma'am," returned the farmer; "I have certainly done you wrong; but I'll
speak the truth: I beg your pardon, but I thought all your favors were
reserved for my neighbour Campbell, and that in a very few years he
would have my farm as well as his own, and I should be turned out to
make room for him."
"I am sorry you should think so," returned Mrs. Meridith, "you are
convinced now, I hope, that there was no reason for it; I have always
looked upon you and him, as tenants too good for me to wish to lose
either."
"Well, this comes of evil surmising," said the farmer, conscious of his
ill conduct to Campbell when they met at market, and other places: "I am
ashamed of it, that I _be_--dear, dear, how unhappy have I made myself
about it, and some other people too, I am afraid, madam," looking at
Mrs. Meridith, to discover whether farmer Campbell had mentioned his
behaviour to her, but he read nothing in her countenance which indicated
it; and indeed he had not thought it worth while to relate it, though
he was hurt that her kindness to him, should produce an effect in one
who had for many years been his friend and neighbour. "Another evil
surmise," resumed Ward, after a short silence. "I'll be bound Campbell
ha'nt said a word about it; I'll go home, ma'am, and tell my wife how
much I have been mistaken; and I begs your pardon for thinking as I
have done; some future time we may talk about the purchase; and pray,
madam, accept my hearty thanks for your kindness."
"Oh, don't mention that, farmer," returned she, "it is no more than your
due, you have always taken good care of my land."
"I will, madam, for the future," said he, "whether I can raise money
enough to buy it or not; but I am ashamed to say it, but truth will come
out, I did _not_ intend to take any more pains with it; for I thought
Campbell would soon have it all."
"Oh, farmer, I hope you will never give way to such ill-grounded
suspicions again," returned Mrs. Meridith, "depend upon it I would act
with the same fairness to you as to him," and seeing the poor man quite
confused with a sense of his error, she offered him her hand, and begged
him to believe her as much a friend to his interest as to Campbell's;
"only I have known him a longer time," said she, "and _his_ mother was
_mine_, when I had lost my own."
The farmer appeared quite melted by her condescension, and not being
able to say another word, he gave her hand a hearty shake, and hurried
out of the house to tell his wife how he had been mistaken in what he
thought was Mrs. Meridith's intention.