But this young maid had a delicate moral sense, which would not suffer her to take advantage of her grandmother, to deceive her, or conceal anything from her, though Margaret was old, and blind, and easy to be imposed upon.
Another virtuous _trait_ I recollect of Rosamund, and now I am in the vein will tell it.
Some, I know, will think these things trifles--and they are so--but if these _minutiae_ make my reader better acquainted with Rosamund, I am content to abide the imputation.
These promises of character, hints, and early indications of a _sweet nature_, are to me more dear, and choice in the selection, than any of those pretty wild flowers, which this young maid, this virtuous Rosamund, has ever gathered in a fine May morning, to make a posy to place in the bosom of her old blind friend.
Rosamund had a very just notion of drawing, and would often employ her talent in making sketches of the surrounding scenery.
On a landscape, a larger piece than she had ever yet attempted, she had now been working for three or four months.

She had taken great pains with it, given much time to it, and it was nearly finished.

For _whose_ particular inspection it was designed, I will not venture to conjecture.

We know it could not have been for her grandmother's.
One day she went out on a short errand, and left her landscape on the table.

When she returned, she found it _gone_.
Rosamund from the first suspected some mischief, but held her tongue.
At length she made the fatal discovery.