shiver, and gather up the clothes again, crying,
"Oh, aunt, don't speak unkind to me! I'm very unhappy, and very ill!"

"Ill, you strumpet! ill, be hanged! Ill is as ill does; and if you are
ill, it's only what you merit. Get out! dress yourself--tramp! Get to
the workhouse, and don't come to cheat me any more! Dress yourself--do
you hear? Satin petticoat forsooth, and lace to her smock!"

Poor, wretched, chattering, burning, shivering Catherine huddled on her
clothes as well she might: she seemed hardly to know or see what she was
doing, and did not reply a single word to the many that the landlady let
fall. Cat tottered down the narrow stairs, and through the kitchen, and
to the door; which she caught hold of, and paused awhile, and looked
into Mrs. Score's face, as for one more chance. "Get out, you nasty
trull!" said that lady, sternly, with arms akimbo; and poor Catherine,
with a most piteous scream and outgush of tears, let go of the door-post
and staggered away into the road.

*****

"Why, no--yes--no--it is poor Catherine Hall, as I live!" said somebody,
starting up, shoving aside Mrs. Score very rudely, and running into
the road, wig off and pipe in hand. It was honest Doctor Dobbs; and
the result of his interview with Mrs. Cat was, that he gave up for ever
smoking his pipe at the "Bugle;" and that she lay sick of a fever for
some weeks in his house.

*****

Over this part of Mrs. Cat's history we shall be as brief as possible;
for, to tell the truth, nothing immoral occurred during her whole stay
at the good Doctor's house; and we are not going to insult the reader
by offering him silly pictures of piety, cheerfulness, good sense, and
simplicity; which are milk-and-water virtues after all, and have no
relish with them like a good strong vice, highly peppered. Well, to be
short: Doctor Dobbs, though a profound theologian, was a very simple
gentleman; and before Mrs. Cat had been a month in the house, he had
learned to look upon her as one of the most injured and repentant
characters in the world; and had, with Mrs. Dobbs, resolved many plans
for the future welfare of the young Magdalen. "She was but sixteen, my
love, recollect," said the Doctor; "she was carried off, not by her own
wish either. The Count swore he would marry her; and, though she did not
leave him until that monster tried to poison her, yet think what a
fine Christian spirit the poor girl has shown!