never met with any landlady so
pleasant to deal with in the kitchen as the landlady here. And now we
must leave all this comfort and happiness, and go--I hardly know where.
William, in his bitterness, says to the workhouse; but that shall never
be, if I have to go out to service to prevent it. The darkness is coming
on, and we must save in candles, or I could write much more. Ah, me!
what a day this has been. I have had but one pleasant moment since it
began; and that was in the morning, when I set my little Emily to work
on a bead purse for the kind doctor's daughter. My child, young as
she is, is wonderfully neat-handed at stringing beads; and even a poor
little empty purse as a token of our gratitude, is better than nothing
at all.

19th.--A visit from our best friend--our only friend here--the doctor.
After he had examined William's eyes, and had reported that they were
getting on as well as can be hoped at present, he asked where we thought
of going to live? I said in the cheapest place we could find, and added
that I was about to make inquiries in the by-streets of the town that
very day. "Put off those inquiries," he said, "till you hear from me
again. I am going now to see a patient at a farmhouse five miles
off. (You needn't look at the children, Mrs. Kerby, it's nothing
infectious--only a clumsy lad, who has broken his collarbone by a fall
from a horse.) They receive lodgers occasionally at the farmhouse, and
I know no reason why they should not be willing to receive you. If you
want to be well housed and well fed at a cheap rate, and if you like the
society of honest, hearty people, the farm of Appletreewick is the very
place for you. Don't thank me till you know whether I can get you
these new lodgings or not. And in the meantime settle all your business
affairs here, so as to be able to move at a moment's notice." With those
words the kind-hearted gentleman nodded and went out. Pray heaven he may
succeed at the farmhouse! We may be sure of the children's health, at
least, if we live in the country. Talking of the children, I must not
omit to record that Emily has nearly done one end of the bead purse
already.

20th.--A note from the doctor, who is too busy to call. Such good
news! They will give us two bedrooms, and board us with the family at
Appletreewick for seventeen shillings a week. By my calculations, we
shall have three pounds sixteen shillings left, after paying what we owe
here. That will be eno