those of it be arrived, who once loved a man
with so much distinction, as both Polly and Sally loved me; and yet can
have got so much above the pangs of jealousy, so much above the
mortifying reflections that arise from dividing and sharing with new
objects the affections of them they prefer to all others, as to wish for,
and promote a competitorship in his love, and make their supreme delight
consist in reducing others to their level!--For thou canst not imagine,
how even Sally Martin rejoiced last night in the thought that the lady's
hour was approaching.

PAST TEN O'CLOCK.

I never longed in my life for any thing with so much impatience as to see
my charmer. She has been stirring, it seems, these two hours.

Dorcas just now tapped at her door, to take her morning commands.

She had none for her, was the answer.

She desired to know, if she would not breakfast?

A sullen and low-voiced negative received Dorcas.

I will go myself.

***

Three different times tapped I at the door, but had no answer.

Permit me, dearest creature, to inquire after your health. As you have
not been seen to-day, I am impatient to know how you do.

Not a word of answer; but a deep sigh, even to sobbing.

Let me beg of you, Madam, to accompany me up another pair of stairs--
you'll rejoice to see what a happy escape we have all had.

A happy escape indeed, Jack!--For the fire had scorched the window-board,
singed the hangings, and burnt through the slit-deal linings of the
window-jambs.

No answer, Madam!--Am I not worthy of one word?--Is it thus you keep your
promise with me?--Shall I not have the favour of your company for two
minutes [only for two minutes] in the dining-room?

Hem!--and a deep sigh!--were all the answer.

Answer me but how you do! Answer me but that you are well! Is this the
forgiveness that was the condition of my obedience?

Then, with a faintish, but angry voice, begone from my door!--Wretch!
inhuman, barbarous, and all that is base and treacherous! begone from my
door! Nor tease thus a poor creature, entitled to protection, not
outrage.

I see, Madam, how you keep your word with me--if a sudden impulse, the
effects of an unthought-of accident, cannot be forgiven--

O the dreadful weight of a father's curse, thus in the very letter of
it--

And then her voice dying away in murmurs inarticulate, I looked through
the key-hole, and saw her on her knees, her face, though not towards me,