'That is right,' said she. 'I hope they will engage you, and then, I
dare say, you will do very well. I shall tell John Davis all your story,
and that you are to be called Lady Anne, for that, as the good clergyman
said, will be a more likely way for your father to discover you. It was
not at all likely that he should find you out in such a dirty place as
Smith's was, but it is probable that he may find you out at Freeman's
nursery grounds, for, in the fine weather, he has crowds of quality go
to look at his flowers and eat his fruit; and then, in the flower
season, he has exhibitions of prize-tulips and prize carnations, when
the nobility will go to see them, and there's such a number of carriages
and curricles, and horses and gigs, and I don't know what besides, that
the road is choked up like St. James's Street on a Court day; and who
knows but your father may go among these great people? What do you say
to that, Lady Anne?'

Her description had brought former scenes to my mind, and the tears came
into my eyes as I expressed my wish that my father might be among those
who came to visit the gardens.

The two children stayed all the afternoon, and employed themselves in
needlework. Several people came and bought fruit and trees, such as
geraniums, myrtles, and other greenhouse plants, so that Mrs. Williams
had what she called a good day, and said it would pay her for what she
was doing for me. About five o'clock we had tea; and, about nine all the
fruit and shrubs were taken inside the shop, which was then shut up, and
I accompanied Mrs. Williams and her daughters home to her room. When we
arrived there, one of the children made a fire, while the other set the
things upon the table for supper. Mrs. Williams looked round the room
and said:

'Well, you have been very good girls; everything looks neat and
comfortable. We will first have our supper, and then we must think how
we can make up a bed for this little girl.'

I now felt so comfortable that, if I could have stayed with Mrs.
Williams, I should have been completely happy, and I may say that the
few hours I spent in her family were like a bright gleam of sunshine
darting through the gloom that had long surrounded me. After our supper,
which was bread and broth made from the mutton that was boiled for
dinner, Mrs. Williams spread a small mattress upon the ground, which,
with two blankets and a pillow, made me a very good bed. She then, from
her daughters' clo