Little Herbert and Cecilia were
almost constantly together. They had a purse in common, into which
they put all the pieces of bright gold they received as presents on
birthdays and other festive occasions. In summer, when the two
families retired to a retreat that one of them had in the country, the
children were permitted to visit the cottagers, and to assist the
distressed, if they chose, out of their own funds--a permission which
they availed themselves of so liberally that they were called by the
country people the two little angels."
"What a pity there are no poor people here!" said Sophia, dolefully.
"Why?" inquired her mother.
"Because we might assist them, mamma."
"It is much better, however, as it is, my child; our assistance might
mitigate the evils of poverty, but might not be sufficient to remove
them."
This reasoning did not seem conclusive to Sophia, who shook her head
and commenced plying her wheel with redoubled energy.
"When Herbert Philipson was twelve years of age he was sent off to
school, and Cecilia was confided to the care of a governess, who,
under the direction of Mrs. Foster, was to undertake her education.
But neither music nor drawing, needlework, grammars nor exercises,
could make little Cecilia forget her absent companion. Absence, that
cools older friendships, had a contrary effect on her heart; the
months, weeks, days, and hours that were to elapse before Herbert
returned for the holidays, were counted and recounted.
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