leave you; they shall
not tear me from you; here on my knees I conjure you to save me from
perishing in the streets; if you really have forgot me, oh for charity's
sweet sake this night let me be sheltered from the winter's piercing
cold." The kneeling figure of Charlotte in her affecting situation might
have moved the heart of a stoic to compassion; but Mrs. Crayton remained
inflexible. In vain did Charlotte recount the time they had known each
other at Chichester, in vain mention their being in the same ship, in
vain were the names of Montraville and Belcour mentioned. Mrs. Crayton
could only say she was sorry for her imprudence, but could not think of
having her own reputation endangered by encouraging a woman of that kind
in her own house, besides she did not know what trouble and expense
she might bring upon her husband by giving shelter to a woman in her
situation.

"I can at least die here," said Charlotte, "I feel I cannot long
survive this dreadful conflict. Father of mercy, here let me finish
my existence." Her agonizing sensations overpowered her, and she fell
senseless on the floor.

"Take her away," said Mrs. Crayton, "she will really frighten me into
hysterics; take her away I say this instant."

"And where must I take the poor creature?" said the servant with a voice
and look of compassion.

"Any where," cried she hastily, "only don't let me ever see her again. I
declare she has flurried me so I shan't be myself again this fortnight."

John, assisted by his fellow-servant, raised and carried her down
stairs. "Poor soul," said he, "you shall not lay in the street this
night. I have a bed and a poor little hovel, where my wife and her
little ones rest them, but they shall watch to night, and you shall be
sheltered from danger." They placed her in a chair; and the benevolent
man, assisted by one of his comrades, carried her to the place where his
wife and children lived. A surgeon was sent for: he bled her, she gave
signs of returning life, and before the dawn gave birth to a female
infant. After this event she lay for some hours in a kind of stupor; and
if at any time she spoke, it was with a quickness and incoherence that
plainly evinced the total deprivation of her reason.

CHAPTER XXXII.

REASONS WHY AND WHEREFORE.

THE reader of sensibility may perhaps be astonished to find Mrs. Crayton
could so positively deny any knowledge of Charlotte; it is therefore but
just that her conduct should