he courtiers you have mentioned would find his way
to our house."

"One of the most profligate of them?" cried Hodges. "Who, in Heaven's
name?"

"He calls himself Maurice Wyvil," replied Mrs. Bloundel.

"I never heard of such a person," rejoined the doctor. "It must be an
assumed name. Have you no letter or token that might lead to his
discovery?" he added, turning to Amabel.

"I have his portrait," she replied, drawing a small miniature from her
bosom.

"I am glad I have seen this," said the doctor, slightly starting as he
cast his eyes upon it. "I hope it is not too late to save you, Amabel,"
he added, in a severe tone. "I hope you are free from contamination?"

"As I live, I am," she replied. "But you recognise the likeness?"

"I do," returned Hodges. "It is the portrait of one whose vices and
depravity are the town's cry, and whose name coupled with that of a
woman, is sufficient to sully her reputation."

"It is the Earl of Rochester," said Mrs. Bloundel.

"You have guessed aright," replied the doctor; "it is."

Uttering an exclamation of surprise and terror, Amabel fell back in her
chair.

"I thought it must be that wicked nobleman," cried Mrs. Bloundel. "Would
you believe it, doctor, that he forced himself into the house--nay, into
this room--last night, and would have carried off my daughter, in spite
of her resistance, if I had not prevented him."

"I can believe anything of him," replied Hodges. "But your husband, of
course, knows nothing of the matter?"

"Not as yet," replied Mrs. Bloundel; "but I authorize you to tell him
all."

"Mother, dear mother," cried Amabel, flinging herself on her knees
before her, "I implore you not to add to my father's present distress. I
might not have been able to conquer my attachment to Maurice Wyvil, but
now that I find he is the Earl of Rochester, I regard him with
abhorrence."

"If I could believe you sincere," said Mrs. Bloundel, "I might be
induced to spare your father the pain which the knowledge of this
unfortunate affair would necessarily inflict."

"I am sincere,--indeed I am," replied Amabel.

"To prove that the earl could not have had honourable intentions towards
you, Amabel," said the doctor, "I may mention that he is at this moment
urging his suit with Mistress Mallet,--a young heiress."

"Ah!" exclaimed Amabel."

"I was in attendance upon Mistress Stewart, the king's present
favourite, the day before yesterday," continued Hodges, "and he