qualifications for a friend and companion."

"You are too kind," said Fanny, colouring at such praise;
"how shall I ever thank you as I ought, for thinking
so well of me. Oh! cousin, if I am to go away, I shall
remember your goodness to the last moment of my life."

"Why, indeed, Fanny, I should hope to be remembered at
such a distance as the White House. You speak as if you
were going two hundred miles off instead of only across
the park; but you will belong to us almost as much as ever.
The two families will be meeting every day in the year.
The only difference will be that, living with your aunt,
you will necessarily be brought forward as you ought to be.
_Here_ there are too many whom you can hide behind; but with
_her_ you will be forced to speak for yourself."

"Oh! I do not say so."

"I must say it, and say it with pleasure. Mrs. Norris
is much better fitted than my mother for having the charge
of you now. She is of a temper to do a great deal
for anybody she really interests herself about, and she
will force you to do justice to your natural powers."

Fanny sighed, and said, "I cannot see things as you do;
but I ought to believe you to be right rather than myself,
and I am very much obliged to you for trying to reconcile
me to what must be. If I could suppose my aunt really
to care for me, it would be delightful to feel myself