Arabella fancied there could be no pleasure in the world equal to that
of listening to conversations in which she had no concern, peeping into
her mamma's drawers and boxes, and asking impertinent questions. If a
parcel was brought to the house, she had no rest till she had found out
what was in it; and if her papa rung the bell, she would never quit the
room till the servant came up, that she might hear what he wanted.
She had been often desired to be less curious, and more attentive to her
lessons; to play with her doll and her baby-house, and not trouble
herself with other people's affairs: but she never minded what was said
to her, and when she was sitting by her mamma, with a book in her hand,
instead of reading it, and endeavouring to improve herself, she was
always looking round her, to observe what her brothers and sisters were
doing, and to watch every one who went out or came into the room.
She desired extremely to have a writing-master, because she hoped, that,
after she had learnt a short time, she should be able to read writing,
and then she should have the pleasure of finding out who all the letters
were for, which the servant carried to the post-office; and might
sometimes peep over her papa's shoulder, and read those which he
received. One day perceiving her mamma whisper to her brother William,
and that they soon after left the room together, she immediately
concluded there must be something going forward, some _secret_ which was
to be hid from her, and which, perhaps, if she lost the present moment,
she never should be able to discover. Poor Arabella could sit still no
longer; she watched them from the window, and seeing that they went
towards a gate in the garden, which opened into the wood, she determined
to be there before them, and to hide herself in the bushes near the
path, that she might overhear their conversation as they passed by.
This she soon accomplished, by taking a shorter way; but it was not
very long before she had reason to wish she had not been so prying; for
the gardener passing through the wood with an ill-natured cur which
always followed him, seeing her move among the bushes, it began to bark
violently, and in an instant jumped into her lap.
She was very much frightened, and, in trying to get away, without
intending it, gave him a great blow on the head; in return for which he
bit her finger, and it was so very much hurt, and was so long before it
was quite well again, that her friends hoped it would have cured her of
being so curious; but they were much mistaken. Arabella's finger was no
sooner well, than the pain she had suffered, her fright, and the
gardener's cur, were all forgotten; and whenever any thing happened, let
the circumstance be ever so trifling, if she did not perfectly
understand the whole matter, she could not rest or attend to any thing
she had to do, till she had discovered the mystery; for she imagined
_mysteries_ and _secrets_ in every thing she saw and heard, unless she
had been informed of what was going to be done.
Some time after her adventure in the wood, she one morning missed her
brother William, and not finding him at work in his little garden, began
directly to imagine her mamma had sent him on some secret expedition;
she resolved, however, on visiting the whole house, in the hope of
finding him, before she made any inquiry, and accordingly hunted every
room and every closet, but to no purpose. From the house she went to the
poultry-yard, and from thence to the lawn, but William was no where to
be found. What should she do!--"I will hunt round the garden once more,"
said she; "I must and will find him, and know where he has been all this
time; why he went without telling me, and why I might not have been
intrusted with the secret. I will not eat my dinner till I find him,
even if he does not return till night."
Arabella returned once more to the garden, where at length, in a retired
corner which she had not thought of visiting, she found her brother
sleeping under a large tree. He had a little covered basket by his side,
and slept so soundly, that he did not move when she came near the
place, though she was talking to herself as she walked along, and not in
a very low voice.
"Now," thought the curious girl, "I have caught him: he must have been a
long way, for he appears to be very warm and tired; and he has certainly
got something in that basket which I am not to see, and I suppose mamma
is to come here and take it from him, that I may know nothing of it.
Mamma and William have always secrets, but I will discover this,
however--I am determined I will."
She then crept softly up to the basket, and stopped down to lift up the
cover, afraid almost to breathe, lest she should be caught; and looking
around to see if her mamma was coming, and then once more at her
brother, that she might be certain he was still asleep, gently she put
her hand upon the basket, and, without the least noise, drew out a
little wooden peg, which fastened down the cover. "Now," thought she,
"Master William, I shall see what you have got here." Away she threw the
peg, up went the cover of the basket, and whizz--out flew a beautiful
white pigeon.
A violent scream from Arabella awoke William, who, seeing the basket
open, the pigeon mounted into the air, and his sister's consternation,
immediately guessed what had happened, and addressed her in the
following manner:
"You see, my dear Arabella, the consequence of your curious and
suspicious temper: I wished to make you a present to-day, because it is
your birthday, but you will not allow your friends to procure you an
agreeable surprise; for nobody in the house can take a single step, or
do the least thing, without your watching and following them. I know you
have long wished to have a white pigeon, and I have walked two long
miles in all this heat, to get one for you. I sat down here, that I
might have time to contrive how I should get it into the house without
your seeing it, because I did not wish to give you my present till after
dinner, when papa and mamma will give you theirs; and whilst I was
endeavouring to think on some way to escape your prying eyes, I was so
over-powered with fatigue and heat, that I fell fast asleep; and I see
you have taken that time to peep into my basket, and save me any
farther trouble. You have let my present fly away: I am sorry for it, my
dear sister, but you have no one to blame but yourself; and I must
confess that I am not half so sorry for your loss, as I am for the fate
which attends two poor little young ones which are left in the basket,
and who, far from being able to take wing, and follow their mother, are
not old enough even to feed themselves, and must soon perish for want of
food."
William's words were but too true; the poor things died the next
morning, and Arabella passed the whole day in unavailing tears, regret,
and sorrow.