The girl, Annie Saint Felix, whom I have
mentioned, was assigned to some neighbours
of ours (our nearest neighbours, for they lived
only six miles off), the Prestons, and very
nice people they were. Captain Preston
early in life had held a commission in the
Foot Guards, and inherited a considerable
fortune; but having run through his money,
he sold his commission and retired, with the
proceeds, to the wilds of Australia, and became
a settler. Mrs. Preston, who was a lady of
aristocratic birth and breeding, was one of
the kindest-hearted beings in existence, and
their sons and daughters, a goodly number of
each, ranging from fourteen to three years of
age, were, without any exception, remarkably
fine and well-behaved children. The eldest
was a daughter.

One morning I had a visit from Mrs.
Preston. She wanted to ask my advice, she
said, on a very delicate matter, that she
scarcely liked to act upon her own judgment,
and Captain Preston had declared himself
incompetent to assist her. On asking her
what was her difficulty, the following dialogue
took place between us:

"You are aware," she began, "that I
applied for a needlewoman?"

"Yes," I replied. "Have you got one?"

"No; but a young girl has been assigned
to us who can do needlework."

"Then, that is all you require of her?"

"True. But she happens to be a young
lady by birth, and is, moreover, a highly
educated girl."

"Well, she is none the worse for those
qualities, as you only want her for
needlework. What was her crime? Did you ask
her?"

"Yes, and she replied, 'Murder, madam!
My brother was hanged; but I am sorry to
say they spared my life!'"

"Murder? Dear me. Did you question
her further?"

"No," said Mrs. Preston. "When she
pronounced the word murder, my blood ran
cold, and I trembled from head to foot. Now,
what I wish to ask you is, Would you keep
a girl under your roof who had been guilty
of such a crime?"

"What sort of a disposition has she?"

"She is as gentle, seemingly, as she is
pretty and graceful. It was, indeed, her
kind and gentle manner towards the children,
and her well-selected language that induced
me to say to her, on the third day she had
been with us— yesterday, in fact—when we
were alone in the nursery, 'Dear me, Annie,
what could have brought a girl of your stamp
and education to this colony?' Of course,
as soon as she pronounced the word murder,
I lost all power of speech, and have scarcely
spoken to her since. To tell you the truth, I
feel rather afraid of her."

"Pretty girls have often a wicked expression
of countenance. Has she one?"

"On the contrary, and she has a voice like
that of a bird. I wish you would come over,
see her, talk to her, and tell me what you
think of her. You can stay the night, you
know."

Mrs. Preston had aroused my curiosity.
When I was one of the lady visiting matrons
of the factory at Paramatta, I had discoursed
with several women who had committed
murder in England, Ireland, or Scotland;
but they were all women of a very
inferior station in life. I agreed to accompany
my friend, and as soon as the Major had
completed his (unpaid) magisterial duties on
the bench, and had returned home, we all
three set out together; Mrs. Preston driving
me in her gig, and the Major riding, on the
right-hand side, on horseback.

When I first saw the girl I was very much
struck with her appearance. Her hair was
brushed back off her forehead, and arranged
as plainly as possible. On her head was a
little white three-cornered cap, such as all
maid-servants wore in those days; her dress
was of common drugget of a dark chocolate
colour, and around her slender waist was
tied a gingham apron, which Mrs. Preston
had given to her. She was then sewing and
talking to the little children, who were playing
around her knees. When we left the
nursery, I exclaimed to Mrs. Preston:

"That a murderess! I do not believe
her."

"But," urged Mrs. Preston, "she says she
is; and why should she confess to having
committed so diabolical a crime, if it be
untrue?"

While Captain Preston and the Major
were drinking their claret, after dinner, and
were talking about their crops and their
cattle, Mrs. Preston and myself paid another
visit to the nursery. By the light of the
wood fire and the candle, the girl looked
even prettier than by daylight. After Mrs.
Preston had put several questions to her,
concerning the children, and the work she
had in hand, and had received the girl's
replies, I said:

"Your mistress has told me that which I
can scarcely credit. She tells me you were
convicted of murder."

"It is quite true, madam," said the girl,
blushing almost crimson.

"What could have prompted a girl like
you," I said, "to think, even, of taking the
life of a fellow-creature?"

"I will tell you, madam," she sighed.

"Sit down, Annie; you must be tired after
your day's labours," said Mrs. Preston, taking
a chair near the fire (an example which I
followed).

The girl obeyed—sat down opposite to us,
and, gazing stedfastly at the blazing logs on
the hearth, in the following words told her
story:

"My brother (who was five years my
senior) and myself were orphans, and were
living under the roof of an uncle (my father's