shed, was blunted; and I gazed upon the
complicated ills of poverty and sickness with a degree of unconcern on
which I should once have reflected with astonishment.

The fate of Clemenza Lodi was not, perhaps, more signal than many which
have occurred. It threw detestable light upon the character of Welbeck,
and showed him to be more inhuman than the tale of Mervyn had evinced
him to be. That man, indeed, was hitherto imperfectly seen. The time had
not come which should fully unfold the enormity of his transgressions
and the complexity of his frauds.

There lived in a remote quarter of the city a woman, by name Villars,
who passed for the widow of an English officer. Her manners and mode of
living were specious. She had three daughters, well trained in the
school of fashion, and elegant in person, manners, and dress. They had
lately arrived from Europe, and, for a time, received from their
neighbours that respect to which their education and fortune appeared to
lay claim.

The fallacy of their pretensions slowly appeared. It began to be
suspected that their subsistence was derived not from pension or
patrimony, but from the wages of pollution. Their habitation was
clandestinely frequented by men who were unfaithful to their secret; one
of these was allied to me by ties which authorized me in watching his
steps and detecting his errors, with a view to his reformation. From him
I obtained a knowledge of the genuine character of these women.

A man like Welbeck, who was the slave of depraved appetites, could not
fail of being quickly satiated with innocence and beauty. Some accident
introduced him to the knowledge of this family, and the youngest
daughter found him a proper subject on which to exercise her artifices.
It was to the frequent demands made upon his purse, by this woman, that
part of the embarrassments in which Mervyn found him involved are to be
ascribed.

To this circumstance must likewise be imputed his anxiety to transfer to
some other the possession of the unhappy stranger. Why he concealed from
Mervyn his connection with Lucy Villars may be easily imagined. His
silence with regard to Clemenza's asylum will not create surprise, when
it was told that she was placed with Mrs. Villars. On what conditions
she was received under this roof, cannot be so readily conjectured. It
is obvious, however, to suppose that advantage was to be taken of her
ignorance and weakness, and that they hoped, in time, to make