itself, or of suspecting it in others. She amused, without seeming
conscious of the refined sense which her observations contained; or
rather, having never been debauched with applause, she set light by her
own qualifications, and talked from the pure gaiety of a youthful heart
acting upon the stores of a just understanding, and not with any
expectation of being distinguished and admired.

The death of her aunt made very little change in her situation. This
prudent lady, who would have thought it little less than sacrilege to
have considered Miss Melville as a branch of the stock of the Tyrrels,
took no more notice of her in her will than barely putting her down for
one hundred pounds in a catalogue of legacies to her servants. She had
never been admitted into the intimacy and confidence of Mrs. Tyrrel; and
the young squire, now that she was left under his sole protection,
seemed inclined to treat her with even more liberality than his mother
had done. He had seen her grow up under his eye, and therefore, though
there were but six years difference in their ages, he felt a kind of
paternal interest in her welfare. Habit had rendered her in a manner
necessary to him, and, in every recess from the occupations of the field
and the pleasures of the table, he found himself solitary and forlorn
without the society of Miss Melville. Nearness of kindred, and Emily's
want of personal beauty, prevented him from ever looking on her with the
eyes of desire. Her accomplishments were chiefly of the customary and
superficial kind, dancing and music. Her skill in the first led him
sometimes to indulge her with a vacant corner in his carriage, when he
went to the neighbouring assembly; and, in whatever light he might
himself think proper to regard her, he would have imagined his
chambermaid, introduced by him, entitled to an undoubted place in the
most splendid circle. Her musical talents were frequently employed for
his amusement. She had the honour occasionally of playing him to sleep