10 pounds, I prepared to go down to Eton.
Nearly 3 pounds of the money I had given to my money-lending friend, on
his alleging that the stamps must be bought, in order that the writings
might be preparing whilst I was away from London. I thought in my heart
that he was lying; but I did not wish to give him any excuse for charging
his own delays upon me. A smaller sum I had given to my friend the
attorney (who was connected with the money-lenders as their lawyer), to
which, indeed, he was entitled for his unfurnished lodgings. About
fifteen shillings I had employed in re-establishing (though in a very
humble way) my dress. Of the remainder I gave one quarter to Ann,
meaning on my return to have divided with her whatever might remain.
These arrangements made, soon after six o'clock on a dark winter evening
I set off, accompanied by Ann, towards Piccadilly; for it was my
intention to go down as far as Salthill on the Bath or Bristol mail. Our
course lay through a part of the town which has now all disappeared, so
that I can no longer retrace its ancient boundaries--Swallow Street, I
think it was called. Having time enough before us, however, we bore away
to the left until we came into Golden Square; there, near the corner of
Sherrard Street, we sat down, not wishing to part in the tumult and blaze
of Piccadilly. I had told her of my plans some time before, and I now
assured her again that she should share in my good fortune, if I met with
any, and that I would never forsake her as soon as I had power to protect
her. This I fully intended, as much from inclination as from a sense of
duty; for setting aside gratitude, which in any case must have made me
her debtor for life, I loved her as affectionately as if she had been my
sister; and at this moment with sevenfold tenderness, from pity at
witnessing her extreme dejection. I had apparently most reason for
dejection, because I was leaving the saviour of my life; yet I,
considering the shock my health had received, was cheerful and full of
hope. She, on the contrary, who was parting with one who had had little
means of serving her, except by kindness and brotherly treatment, was
overcome by sorrow; so that, when I kissed her at our final farewell, she
put her arms about my neck and wept without speaking a word. I hoped to
return in a week at farthest, and I agreed with her that on the fifth
night from that, and every night afterwards, she would wait for me at six
o'