THE FLOWERPOT.


Eager to prove that he was not a sycophant, Forester, when he returned
home with his friend Henry, took every possible occasion to contradict
him, with even more than his customary rigidity; nay, he went further
still, to vindicate his sincerity.

Flora Campbell had never entirely recovered our hero's esteem, since she
had unwittingly expressed her love for Scotch reels; but she was happily
unconscious of the crime she had committed, and was wholly intent upon
pleasing her father and mother, her brother Henry, and herself. She had a
constant flow of good spirits, and the charming domestic talent of making
every trifle a source of amusement to herself and others: she was
sprightly, without being frivolous; and the uniform sweetness of her
temper showed, that she was not in the least in want of flattery, or
dissipation, to support her gaiety. But Forester, as the friend of her
brother, thought it incumbent upon him to discover faults in her which no
one else could discover, and to assist in her education, though she was
only one year younger than himself. She had amused herself, the morning
that Forester and her brother were at the brewery, with painting a
pasteboard covering for the flower-pot which held the poor little girl's
geranium. Flora had heard from her brother of his intention to place it
in the middle of the supper-table, at the ball; and she flattered
herself, that he would like to see it ornamented by her hands at his
return. She produced it after dinner. Henry thanked her, and her father
and mother were pleased to see her eagerness to oblige her brother. The