wn to my own children, who were
my own flesh and blood.

There was another daughter I had, which, with all our inquiries, we
could not hear of, high nor low, for several years after the first. But
I return to my own story.

Being now in part removed from my old station, I seemed to be in a fair
way of retiring from my old acquaintances, and consequently from the
vile, abominable trade I had driven so long; so that the door seemed to
be, as it were, particularly open to my reformation, if I had any mind
to it in earnest; but, for all that, some of my old friends, as I had
used to call them, inquired me out, and came to visit me at Kensington,
and that more frequently than I wished they would do; but it being once
known where I was, there was no avoiding it, unless I would have
downright refused and affronted them; and I was not yet in earnest
enough with my resolutions to go that length.

The best of it was, my old lewd favourite, who I now heartily hated,
entirely dropped me. He came once to visit me, but I caused Amy to deny
me, and say I was gone out. She did it so oddly, too, that when his
lordship went away, he said coldly to her, "Well, well, Mrs. Amy, I find
your mistress does not desire to be seen; tell her I won't trouble her
any more," repeating the words "any more" two or three times over, just
at his going away.

I reflected a little on it at first as unkind to him, having had so many
considerable presents from him, but, as I have said, I was sick of him,
and that on some accounts which, if I could suffer myself to publish
them, would fully justify my conduct. But that part of the story will
not bear telling, so I must leave it, and proceed.

I had begun a little, as I have said above, to reflect upon my manner of
living, and to think of putting a new face upon it, and nothing moved me
to it more than the consideration of my having three children, who were
now grown up; and yet that while I was in that station of life I could
not converse with them or make myself known to them; and this gave me a
great deal of uneasiness. At last I entered into talk on this part of it
with my woman Amy.

We lived at Kensington, as I have said, and though I had done with my
old wicked l----, as above, yet I was frequently visited, as I said, by
some others; so that, in a word, I began to be known in the town, not by
name only, but by my character too, which was worse.

It was one morning when Amy was in bed with me, an