aply, as
I could, and give my note of hand, &c. Sir, in less than three months; I
was in a mesh of difficulties, from which it was impossible to tear
myself. Bill after bill had I accepted and given to this Gilbert--pounds
upon pounds had he sucked from me in the way of interest; He grew greedier
every hour. If I hesitated; he spoke to me of exposure--I refused, he
threatened enforcement of his previous claims. And, what was worse than
all, notwithstanding the heavy sums which he advanced, and for which he
held securities, my affairs remained disordered, and the demand for money
increased with every new supply. I could not understand it. I had not
communicated with my uncle. I was afraid to do it; but I took care to pay
his dividend the instant it was due. Had I omitted it, Mr Gilbert would
have looked to me; for he was even more anxious than myself to keep my
affairs a secret from my uncle. It was not long before I got bewildered by
the accumulated anxieties of my position. My mind was paralyzed. My days
were wretched. Home had no delight for me; and neither there nor elsewhere
could I find repose. Before daybreak, I quitted my bed, and until
midnight, I was occupied in arranging for the engagements of the coming
day. Legitimate and profitable business was neglected; lost sight of, and
all my faculties were engrossed in the one great object of obtaining
_money_ to appease the present and the pressing importunity. In the midst
of my trouble, I was thrown, for the first time, upon a bed of sickness. I
was attacked with fever, but I rallied in a day or two, and was prepared
once more to cast myself into the vortex from which I saw no hope or
possibility of escape. It was the evening before the day on which I had
determined to resume the whirl of my sickening occupation. I was in bed,
and, tired with the thought that weighed upon my brain, had fallen into a
temporary sleep, from which I woke too soon, to find my wife, now about to
become a mother, weeping as if her heart were broken, at my side. Trouble,
sir, had soured my temper, and I had ceased to be as tender as she
deserved. I was base enough to speak unkindly to her.

"'You are discontented, Anna,' I exclaimed. You are not satisfied--you
repent now that you married me'--I see you do.'

"'Warton,' she exclaimed, 'if you love me, leave this cruel business. Let
us live upon a crust. I will work for you. I will submit to any thing to
see you calm and happy. This will kil