LETTER XVII.
Emilia to Charlotte.
My mother is now out of danger, my dear Charlotte, but Charles went to bed last night very ill, and is it to be wondered at, after the perturbation of mind he has lately gone through? Heaven preserve me such a brother! The time seemed so long while he was away, that I do not know how I should live without him.
He found a lost child last night, and brought it in his arms to our gardener, and desired him to take care of it until we could find out the mother. She came this morning, and informed us, that she had been all the night wandering about in search of it. I was very much affected by the poor woman’s gratitude; but would you believe it, a certain young gentleman presumed to say to Edward, this morning, that he thought Charles had acted imprudently: what would he have done, added he, if the child had never been claimed? Did you ever hear such cold-hearted reasoning, Charlotte? Who would have thought of such a thing, when the poor child was in such immediate distress; yet this same prudent gentleman took home, some time ago, only actuated by pity, a great dog that ran after him. Edward told him of this, and asked him how it was possible that any one who could have so much pity for an animal able to preserve itself from danger, and find something to eat, should have so little compassion for a helpless child? He was at a loss what to say, and soon after took his leave, as I must do for the present.