f, amid your new avocations, you
will take the pleasure in the handwriting of an _old friend_?
I remember you many times daily, and often when I wake in the
night; and commend you to God morning and evening, kneeling on
the place where your cot used to stand, for I have no one now to
care for in my room. There is little change in our life here;
though Mr. Scougall, as I foreboded, takes less heart in his
ministrations, and I should not wonder if he retired before
long. But this is between ourselves. Punctual as ever in his
duties, he rarely spends the night here, but departs at six p.m.
for his wife's farm, where Mrs. S. very naturally prefers to
reside. Indeed, I wish she would absent herself altogether; for
when she comes, it is to criticise the housekeeping, in which I
regret to say she does not maintain that generous spirit of
which she gave promise in the veal pies, etc., of that _ever
memorable_ morning. I never condescended to be a bride: yet I
feel sure, that had I done so, it would have given me an extra
compassion for the fatherless."

"But enough of myself. My object in writing is to tell you that
my birthday falls on Wednesday next (May 1st, dedicated by the
Ancient Romans to the Goddess of Flowers, as I was yearly
reminded in my happy youth. But how often Fate withholds from
us her seeming promises!). It might be a bond between us, my
dear boy, if you will take that day for your birthday too.
Pray humour me in this; for indeed your going has left a void
which I cannot fill, and perhaps do not wish to, except with
thoughts of you. I trust there used to be no _partiality_; but
for some reason you were dearer to me than the others; and I
feel as if God, in His mysterious way, sent you into my life
_with meaning_. Do you think that Mr. Trapp, if you asked him
politely (and I trust you have not forgotten your politeness),
would permit you to meet me at 5 p.m. on Wednesday, in Mr.
Tucker's Bun Shop, in Bedford Street, to celebrate your birthday
with an affectionate friend? Such ever is,"

"Amelia Plinlimmon."

"Oh, very well," said Mr. Trapp when I showed him the letter and put
my request; "only don't let her swell you out of shape. Chimbleys is
narrower than they used to be. May-day is Sweeps' Ho