Young Folks' Treasury: Classic Tales and Old-Fashioned Stories HTML version

The Fruits Of Disobedience
In a beautiful villa on the banks of the Medway resided a gentleman whose name was Darnley,
who had, during the early part of life, filled a post of some importance about the Court, and even
in its decline preserved that elegance of manners which so peculiarly marks a finished
The loss of a beloved wife had given a pensive cast to his features, and a seriousness to his
deportment, which many people imagined proceeded from haughtiness of disposition, yet
nothing could be further from Mr. Darnley's character, for he was affable, gentle, benevolent,
and humane.
His family consisted of an only sister, who, like himself, had lost the object of her tenderest
affection, but who, in dividing her attention between her brother and his amiable children,
endeavored to forget her own misfortunes.
Mr. Darnley's fortune was sufficiently great to enable him to place his daughters in the first
school in London, but he preferred having them under his immediate instruction, and as Mrs.
Collier offered to assist him in their education he resolved for some years not to engage a
governess, as Nurse Chapman was one of those worthy creatures to whose care he could securely
trust them.
An old friend of Mr. Darnley's had recently bought a house at Rochester, and that gentleman and
his sister were invited to pass a few days there, and as Emily grew rather too big for the nurse's
management Mrs. Collier resolved to make her of the party, leaving Sophia, Amanda, and Eliza
under that good woman's protection.
It was Mr. Darnley's wish that the young folks should rise early and take a long walk every
morning before breakfast, but they were strictly ordered never to go beyond their own grounds
unless their aunt or father accompanied them. This [pg
The morning after Mr. Darnley went to Rochester the poor woman found herself thoroughly
indisposed, and wholly incapable of rising at the accustomed hour. The children, however, were
dressed for walking, and the nurse-maid charged not to go beyond the shrubbery, and they all
sallied out in high good humor.
"Now, Susan," said Sophia, as soon as they entered the garden, "this is the only opportunity you
may ever have of obliging us. Do let us walk to the village, and then you know you can see your
father and mother."
"La, missy!" replied the girl, "why, you know 'tis as much as my place is worth if Nurse
Chapman should find out."
order they had frequently endeavored to
persuade Nurse Chapman to disregard, but, faithful to the trust reposed in her, she always
resisted their urgent entreaties.