y and affection of a widowed sister of her mother's, who was
affluent, and had caused her to attend the same school as that to which
she had sent her own daughters. In a word, she was a most charming
neighbour; and her presence at Ravensnest had rendered Martha's annual
visits to the "old house" (built in 1785) not only less irksome, but
actually pleasant. Such had been my sister's account of the Warrens and
their qualities, throughout a correspondence of five years. I have even
fancied that she loved this Mary Warren better than she loved any of her
uncle's wards, herself of course excepted.

The foregoing flashed through my mind, the instant the clergyman
announced himself; but the coincidence of our being on the way to the
same part of the country, seemed to strike him as forcibly as it did
myself. What Mary thought of the matter, I had no means of ascertaining.

"This is singular enough," resumed Mr. Warren. "What has directed your
steps towards Ravensnest?"

"Dey tell mine ooncle 'tis goot place to sell moch vatch."

"You have an uncle, then? Ah! I see him there in the street, showing a
watch at this moment to a gentleman. Is your uncle a linguist, too, and
has he been as well educated as you seem to be yourself?"

"Certain--he moch more of a shentleman dan ast de shentleman to whom he
now sell vatch."

"These must be the very persons," put in Mary, a little eagerly, "of
whom Mr. Newcome spoke, as the"--the dear girl did not like to say
pedlars, after what I had told them of my origin; so she added--"dealers
in watches and trinkets, who intended to visit our part of the country."

"You are right, my dear, and the whole matter is now clear. Mr. Newcome
said he expected them to join us at Troy, when we should proceed in the
train together as far as Saratoga. But here comes Opportunity herself,
and her brother cannot be far off."

At that moment, sure enough, my old acquaintance, Opportunity Newcome,
came into the room, a public parlour, with an air of great
self-satisfaction, and a _nonchalance_ of manner that was not a little
more peculiar to herself than it is to most of her caste. I trembled for
my disguise, since, to be quite frank on a very delicate subject,
Opportunity had made so very dead a set at me--"setting a cap" is but a
pitiful phrase to express the assault I had to withstand--as scarcely to
leave a hope that her feminine instinct, increased and stimulated with
the wish to be mistress of the Nes