appeared like return to a long-lost and much-loved home. My desolate and
lonely condition appeared to be changed for paternal regards and the
tenderness of friendship.

These emotions were confirmed and heightened by every object that
presented itself under this roof. The family consisted of Mrs. Hadwin,
two simple and affectionate girls, his daughters, and servants. The
manners of this family, quiet, artless, and cordial, the occupations
allotted me, the land by which the dwelling was surrounded, its pure
airs, romantic walks, and exhaustless fertility, constituted a powerful
contrast to the scenes which I had left behind, and were congenial with
every dictate of my understanding and every sentiment that glowed in my
heart.

My youth, mental cultivation, and circumspect deportment, entitled me to
deference and confidence. Each hour confirmed me in the good opinion of
Mr. Hadwin, and in the affections of his daughters. In the mind of my
employer, the simplicity of the husbandman and the devotion of the
Quaker were blended with humanity and intelligence. The sisters, Susan
and Eliza, were unacquainted with calamity and vice through the medium
of either observation or books. They were strangers to the benefits of
an elaborate education, but they were endowed with curiosity and
discernment, and had not suffered their slender means of instruction to
remain unimproved.

The sedateness of the elder formed an amusing contrast with the laughing
eye and untamable vivacity of the younger; but they smiled and they
wept in unison. They thought and acted in different but not discordant
keys. On all momentous occasions, they reasoned and felt alike. In
ordinary cases, they separated, as it were, into different tracks; but