d to me--with the want of
feeling peculiar to the rich. I am to re-open wounds that Time
has barely closed; I am to recall the most intensely painful
remembrances--and this done, I am to feel myself compensated by a new
laceration, in the shape of Mr. Blake's cheque. My nature is weak. It
cost me a hard struggle, before Christian humility conquered sinful
pride, and self-denial accepted the cheque.

Without my diary, I doubt--pray let me express it in the grossest
terms!--if I could have honestly earned my money. With my diary, the
poor labourer (who forgives Mr. Blake for insulting her) is worthy
of her hire. Nothing escaped me at the time I was visiting dear Aunt
Verinder. Everything was entered (thanks to my early training) day by
day as it happened; and everything down to the smallest particular,
shall be told here. My sacred regard for truth is (thank God) far above
my respect for persons. It will be easy for Mr. Blake to suppress what
may not prove to be sufficiently flattering in these pages to the person
chiefly concerned in them. He has purchased my time, but not even HIS
wealth can purchase my conscience too.*

* NOTE. ADDED BY FRANKLIN BLAKE.--Miss Clack may make her
mind quite easy on this point. Nothing will be added,
altered or removed, in her manuscript, or in any of the
other manuscripts which pass through my hands. Whatever
opinions any of the writers may express, whatever
peculiarities of treatment may mark, and perhaps in a
literary sense, disfigure the narratives which I am now
collecting, not a line will be tampered with anywhere, from
first to last. As genuine documents they are sent to me--and
as genuine documents I shall preserve them, endorsed by the
attestations of witnesses who can speak to the facts. It
only remains to be added that "the person chiefly concerned"
in Miss Clack's narrative, is happy enough at the present
moment, not only to brave the smartest exercise of Miss
Clack's pen, but even to recognise its unquestionable value
as an instrument for the exhibition of Miss Clack's
character.

My diary informs me, that I was accidentally passing Aunt Verinder's
house in Montagu Square, on Monday, 3rd July, 1848.

Seeing the shutters opened, and the blinds drawn up, I felt that it
would be an act of polite attention to knock, and make inquiries. The
person who answered the door, informed me that my au