d their malice and subvert
their happiness. Thus it was, in an eminent degree, in my case. The
simple fact was connected, in my mind, with a train of the most hateful
consequences. The depravity of Welbeck was inferred from it. The charms
of this angelic woman were tarnished and withered. I had formerly
surveyed her as a precious and perfect monument, but now it was a scene
of ruin and blast.

This had been a source of sufficient anguish; but this was not all. I
recollected that the claims of a parent had been urged. Will you believe
that these claims were now admitted, and that they heightened the
iniquity of Welbeck into the blackest and most stupendous of all crimes?
These ideas were necessarily transient. Conclusions more conformable to
appearances succeeded. This lady might have been lately reduced to
widowhood. The recent loss of a beloved companion would sufficiently
account for her dejection, and make her present situation compatible
with duty.

By this new train of ideas I was somewhat comforted. I saw the folly of
precipitate inferences and the injustice of my atrocious imputations,
and acquired some degree of patience in my present state of uncertainty.
My heart was lightened of its wonted burden, and I laboured to invent
some harmless explication of the scene that I had witnessed the
preceding night.

At dinner Welbeck appeared as usual, but not the lady. I ascribed her
absence to some casual indisposition, and ventured to inquire into the
state of her health. My companion said she was well, but that she had
left the city for a month or two, finding the heat of summer
inconvenient where she was. This was no unplausible reason for
retirement. A candid mind would have acquiesced in this representation,
and found in it nothing inconsistent with a supposition respecting the
cause of appearances favourable to her character; but otherwise was I
affected. The uneasiness which had flown for a moment returned, and I
sunk into gloomy silence.

From this I was roused by my patron, who requested me to deliver a
billet, which he put into my hand, at the counting-house of Mr.
Thetford, and to bring him an answer. This message was speedily
performed. I entered a large building by the river-side. A spacious
apartment presented itself, well furnished with pipes and hogsheads. In
one corner was a smaller room, in which a gentleman was busy at writing.
I advanced to the door of the room, but was there met by a young perso