t ought only to be the companion of
guilt. He lamented, with rather more gallantry than, in my situation,
I thought delicate, that such a woman should be thrown away on a man
insensible to the charms of beauty or grace. He seemed at a loss what to
advise me to do, to evade my husband's search, without hastening to my
uncle, whom, he hesitating said, I might not find alive. He uttered this
intelligence with visible regret; requested me, at least, to wait for
the arrival of the next packet; offered me what money I wanted, and
promised to visit me.

"He kept his word; still no letter arrived to put an end to my painful
state of suspense. I procured some books and music, to beguile the
tedious solitary days.

'Come, ever smiling Liberty,
'And with thee bring thy jocund train:'

I sung--and sung till, saddened by the strain of joy, I bitterly
lamented the fate that deprived me of all social pleasure. Comparative
liberty indeed I had possessed myself of; but the jocund train lagged
far behind!"

CHAPTER 13

"BY WATCHING my only visitor, my uncle's friend, or by some other means,
Mr. Venables discovered my residence, and came to enquire for me. The
maid-servant assured him there was no such person in the house. A bustle
ensued--I caught the alarm--listened--distinguished his voice, and
immediately locked the door. They suddenly grew still; and I waited
near a quarter of an hour, before I heard him open the parlour door,
and mount the stairs with the mistress of the house, who obsequiously
declared that she knew nothing of me.

"Finding my door locked, she requested me to open it, and prepare to go
home with my husband, poor gentleman! to whom I had already occasioned
sufficient vexation.' I made no reply. Mr. Venables then, in an assumed
tone of softness, intreated me, 'to consider what he suffered, and my
own reputation, and get the better of childish resentment.' He ran on
in the same strain, pretending to address me, but evidently adapting his
discourse to the capacity of the landlady; who, at every pause, uttered
an exclamation of pity; or 'Yes, to be sure--Very true, sir.'

"Sick of the farce, and perceiving that I could not avoid the hated
interview, I opened the door, and he entered. Advancing with easy
assurance to take my hand, I shrunk from his touch, with an involuntary
start, as I should have done from a noisome reptile, with more disgust
than terror. His conductress was retiring, to gi