if he required more for his expenses. The Intendant
cautioned him on his behaviour in many points, and also relative to his
dress and carriage during his stay in the metropolis.

"If you should leave London there will be no occasion, nay, it would be
dangerous to write to me. I shall take it for granted that you will
retain Sampson till your departure, and when he returns here I shall
presume that you have gone north. I will not detain you longer, Edward:
may Heaven bless and protect you!"

So saying, the Intendant went away to his own room.

"Kind and generous man!" thought Edward; "how much did I mistake you
when we first met!"

Taking up the letters and bag of money, which still remained on the
table, Edward went to his room, and having placed the letters and money
in the saddle-bag, he commended himself to the Divine Protector, and
retired to rest.

Before daylight the sound of Sampson's heavy travelling boots below
roused up Edward, and he was soon dressed. Taking his saddle-bags on
his arm, he walked softly downstairs, that he might not disturb any of
the family; but when he was passing the sitting-room he perceived that
there was a light in it, and on looking in, that Patience was up and
dressed. Edward looked surprised, and was about to speak, when Patience
said--

"I rose early, Edward, because, when I took leave of you last night, I
forgot a little parcel that I wanted to give you before you went. It
will not take much room, and may beguile a weary hour. It is a little
book of meditations. Will you accept it, and promise me to read it when
you have time?"

"I certainly will, my dear Patience--if I may venture on the
expression--read it, and think of you."

"Nay you must read it and think of what it contains," replied Patience.

"I will, then. I shall not need the book to remind me of Patience
Heatherstone, I assure you."

"And now, Edward, I do not pretend to surmise the reason of your
departure, nor would it be becoming in me to attempt to discover what my
father thinks proper to be silent upon, but I must beg you to promise
one thing."

"Name it, dear Patience," replied Edward; "my heart is so full at the
thought of leaving you that I feel I can refuse you nothing."

"It is this,--I have a presentiment, I know not why, that you are about
to encounter danger. If so, be prudent,--be prudent for the sake of
your dear sisters--be prudent for the sake of all your friends, who
would regre