rty
years ago.

"I wish he would not go to Paris," said Miss Matilda, anxiously. "I don't
believe frogs will agree with him; he used to have to be very careful what
he ate, which was curious in so strong-looking a young man."

Soon after this I took my leave, giving many an injunction to Martha to
look after her mistress, and to let me know if she thought that Miss
Matilda was not so well; in which case I would volunteer a visit to my old
friend, without noticing Martha's intelligence to her.

Accordingly I received a line or two from Martha every now and then; and,
about November, I had a note to say her mistress was "very low, and sadly
off her food;" and the account made me so uneasy, that, although Martha
did not decidedly summon me, I packed up my things and went.

I received a warm welcome, in spite of the little flurry produced by my
impromptu visit, for I had only been able to give a day's notice. Miss
Matilda looked miserably ill; and I prepared to comfort and cosset her.

I went down to have a private talk with Martha.

"How long has your mistress been so poorly?" I asked, as I stood by the
kitchen fire.

"Well! I think it's better than a fortnight; it is, I know: it was one
Tuesday after Miss Pole had been here that she went into this moping way.
I thought she was tired, and it would go off with a night's rest; but, no!
she has gone on and on ever since, till I thought it my duty to write to
you, ma'am."

"You did quite right, Martha. It is a comfort to think she has so faithful
a servant about her. And I hope you find your place comfortable?"

"Well, ma'am, missus is very kind, and there's plenty to eat and drink,
and no more work but what I can do easily--but--" Martha hesitated.

"But what, Martha?"

"Why, it seems so hard of missus not to let me have any followers; there's
such lots of young fellows in the town; and many a one has as much as
offered to keep company with me; and I may never be in such a likely place
again, and it's like wasting an opportunity. Many a girl as I know would
have 'em unbeknownst to missus; but I've given my word, and I'll stick to
it; or else this is just the house for missus never to be the wiser if
they did come: and it's such a capable kitchen--there's such good dark
corners in it--I'd be bound to hide any one. I counted up last Sunday
night--for I'll not deny I was crying because I had to shut the door in Jem
Hearn's face; and he's a steady young man, fit for a