handle by which Alice's
obstinacy might always be moved--her little girl's welfare. He put this
so forcibly before her eyes; he represented the child's future fate as
resting so much, not only on her own good conduct, but on her outward
respectability, that he prevailed upon her at last; and, perhaps, one
argument that he incidentally used, had as much effect on her as
the rest. "This Mr. Butler, if yet in England, may pass through our
town--may visit amongst us--may hear you spoken of by a name similar to
his own, and curiosity would thus induce him to seek you. Take his name,
and you will always bear an honourable index to your mutual discovery
and recognition. Besides, when you are respectable, honoured, and
earning an independence, he may not be too proud to marry you. But take
your own name, avow your own history, and not only will your child be
an outcast, yourself a beggar, or, at best, a menial dependant, but
you lose every hope of recovering the object of your too-devoted
attachment."

Thus Alice was convinced. From that time she became close and
reserved in her communications. Mrs. Leslie had wisely selected a town
sufficiently remote from her own abode to preclude any revelations of
her domestics; and, as Mrs. Butler, Alice attracted universal sympathy
and respect from the exercise of her talents, the modest sweetness of
her manners, the unblemished propriety of her conduct. Somehow or other,
no sooner did she learn the philosophy of concealment than she made a
great leap in knowledge of the world. And, though flattered and courted
by the young loungers of C------, she steered her course with so much
address that she was never persecuted. For there are few men in the
world who make advances where there is no encouragement.

The banker observed her conduct with silent vigilance. He met her often,
he visited her often. He was intimate at houses where she attended to
teach or perform. He lent her good books--he advised her--he preached
to her. Alice began to look up to him--to like him--to consider him as a
village girl in Catholic countries may consider a benevolent and kindly
priest. And he--what was his object?--at that time it is impossible to
guess:--he became thoughtful and abstracted.

One day an old maid and an old clergyman met in the High Street of
C------.

"And how do you do, ma'am?" said the clergyman; "how is the rheumatism?"

"Better, thank you, sir. Any news?"

The clergyman smiled, and s