and simply requested an interview with him on a
subject of importance, at any hour he might mention. Unwilling to trust
what I had written to the post, I sent my note by a messenger--not one
of our own servants, caution forbade that--and instructed the man to
wait for an answer: if Mr. Sherwin was out, to wait till he came home.

After a long delay--long to _me;_ for my impatience would fain have
turned hours into minutes--I received a reply. It was written on
gilt-edged letter-paper, in a handwriting vulgarised by innumerable
flourishes. Mr. Sherwin presented his respectful compliments, and
would be happy to have the honour of seeing me at North Villa, if quite
convenient, at five o'clock to-morrow afternoon.

I folded up the letter carefully: it was almost as precious as a letter
from Margaret herself. That night I passed sleeplessly, revolving in
my mind every possible course that I could take at the interview of the
morrow. It would be a difficult and a delicate business. I knew nothing
of Mr. Sherwin's character; yet I must trust him with a secret which I
dared not trust to my own father. Any proposals for paying addresses
to his daughter, coming from one in my position, might appear open
to suspicion. What could I say about marriage? A public, acknowledged
marriage was impossible: a private marriage might be a bold, if
not fatal proposal. I could come to no other conclusion, reflect as
anxiously as I might, than that it was best for me to speak candidly at
all hazards. I could be candid enough when it suited my purpose!

It was not till the next day, when the time approached for my interview
with Mr. Sherwin, that I thoroughly roused myself to face the
plain necessities of my position. Determined to try what impression
appearances could make on him, I took unusual pains with my dress; and
more, I applied to a friend whom I could rely on as likely to ask no
questions--I write this in shame and sorrow: I tell truth here, where it
is hard penance to tell it--I applied, I say, to a friend for the loan
of one of his carriages to take me to North Villa; fearing the risk
of borrowing my father's carriage, or my sister's--knowing the common
weakness of rank-worship and wealth-worship in men of Mr. Sherwin's
order, and meanly determining to profit by it to the utmost. My friend's
carriage was willingly lent me. By my directions, it took me up at the
appointed hour, at a shop where I was a regular customer.

X.

On my