d a home to bestow
upon a forlorn, betrayed, and unhappy stranger? I know not what this
house is; I suspect it to be no better than a brothel. I know not what
treatment this woman has received. When her situation and wants are
ascertained, will you supply her wants? Will you rescue her from evils
that may attend her continuance here?"

She was disconcerted and bewildered by this address. At length she
said, "All that has happened, all that I have heard and seen, is so
unexpected, so strange, that I am amazed and distracted. Your behaviour
I cannot comprehend, nor your motive for making this address to me. I
cannot answer you, except in one respect. If this woman has suffered
injury, I have had no part in it. I knew not of her existence nor her
situation till this moment; and whatever protection or assistance she
may justly claim, I am both able and willing to bestow. I do not live
here, but in the city. I am only an occasional visitant in this house."

"What, then!" I exclaimed, with sparkling eyes and a rapturous accent,
"you are not profligate; are a stranger to the manners of this house,
and a detester of these manners? Be not a deceiver, I entreat you. I
depend only on your looks and professions, and these may be dissembled."

These questions, which indeed argued a childish simplicity, excited her
surprise. She looked at me, uncertain whether I was in earnest or in
jest. At length she said, "Your language is so singular, that I am at a
loss how to answer it. I shall take no pains to find out its meaning,
but leave you to form conjectures at leisure. Who is this woman, and how
can I serve her?" After a pause, she continued:--"I cannot afford her
any immediate assistance, and shall not stay a moment longer in this
house. There" (putting a card in my hand) "is my name and place of
abode. If you shall have any proposals to make, respecting this woman, I
shall be ready to receive them in my own house." So saying, she
withdrew.

I looked wistfully after her, but could not but assent to her assertion,
that her presence here would be more injurious to her than beneficial to
Clemenza. She had scarcely gone, when the elder woman entered. There was
rage, sullenness, and disappointment in her aspect. These, however, were
suspended by the situation in which she discovered the mother and child.
It was plain that all the sentiments of woman were not extinguished in
her heart. She summoned the servants and seemed preparing to ta