CHAPTER XXVIII

One Tuesday night, as Julia was not ready nor had even begun to dress when I called for her, I went to the Opera alone. Judge my surprise on entering my box, to find the front fully occupied by two immensely fat city-sort of ladies, and an elderly stupid-looking man in powder.

"There must be some mistake, I fancy," said I civilly.

"How do you mean, madam?" asked the powdered man.

"This is my private box, and you may see my name on the outside of it."

The party in great haste produced three bone-tickets, which they had purchased for eight shillings each at Mr. Ebers's.

"They are the three tickets I am in the habit of disposing of every night. Lady Castlereagh does the same thing; but nobody ever thinks of intruding their society on me here. The tickets are sold for the pit."

"For the pit indeed!" said one of the ladies with indignation, "the pit! whoever heard tell of such a thing! You're much more fitter ma'am, for aught I know, to go into the pit yourself than we are. Is our dress a pit-dress or a gallery-dress ma'am?"

"I fancy, madam, you are thinking of the play or Astley's. You are not accustomed to the Opera I see, or you would not fancy anything too fine for the pit. I assure you, you will all three cut a brilliant figure there," said I.

A little Captain Churchill, of the Guards, came into my box at this moment, and opened his little eyes as wide as his astonishment could stretch them, at seeing my party.

"Mr. Churchill, these two ladies have bought my tickets of Ebers, and they insist on taking up the front of my box."

"Oh madam," said Churchill, addressing the eldest, "you really must not expect to make such a very magnificent appearance for only eight shillings."

"Silence!" said the fat, powdered gentleman with dignity, and Churchill stared impudently in his face and burst out into a laugh.

"This is unwarrantable conduct, sir," said the stranger, "and I must call the box-keeper, if you hinder my whole party from witnessing the performance."

"Excellent! Upon my word, capital! We are really very much obliged to you all for being such monstrous good fun," said Churchill, holding his sides.

"Box-keeper!" roared out the powdered man, and one of them immediately attended his summons. "These people are a great nuisance, box-keeper, and they want to make us believe that we have no right to sit in our own box!"

"Excuse me, sir," said the man, "this box belongs to this lady. It is Miss Wilson's own private property."

"And pray are not these the tickets of this box?" the stranger inquired.

"They certainly are," replied the man, "and I have no right to refuse you admittance; but it is a regular, understood thing, when ladies dispose of their tickets they are for the pit."

"Don't tell me about your regular, understood thing," said the enraged gentleman. "We have come up to town on purpose to witness an Italian Opera, and we have procured tickets for this box. Now I'll tell you what, young man, if you don't make these people silent, I shall apply to a constable and insist on having them turned out."

"Oh! how very good!" said Churchill, again laughing, and looking at the party through his glass. "Did you all three come up by steam, or how?"

The box-keeper vainly endeavoured to look serious, while informing them that he really could not take upon himself to request me or my friend to be silent, when we were inclined to converse or laugh in my own box, as it was what everybody did; and many went there for no other purpose but to chat with their friends.

I requested the box-keeper to send Ebers to me, while the fat ladies were turning up their eyes, and throwing out contemptuous remarks on the man for having attempted to impose on them with such an improbable story as that of people putting themselves to the expense of going to the King's Theatre, when they only wanted to converse and had no wish to see the performance.

"Let us make ourselves so disagreeable to them, that they will be glad to go," said I, in French, which language, from their stupid faces, I concluded they had not studied.

"I have been trying that plan for the last ten minutes," answered Churchill; "but, how can _la belle Harriette_ ever expect to succeed in disgusting others?"

"You shall see," said I, "although I am going to be very vulgar; but the case is desperate, for it is death to be stuck behind these fat people, and I shall be quizzed and laughed at for a month, for changing my two sister-graces, whom I expect every minute, for these two furies." I then fixed my eyes steadily on the ladies' finery, particularly their head-dresses, and, immediately afterwards chattered and laughed, in order to seem as if I was talking at them, although, we never once mentioned them. Then Churchill would take a peep at their feet, and laugh again louder than ever.

"Insufferably impertinent!" said the youngest lady, fanning herself violently; but still they kept their seats.

Mr. Ebers came into the box to express his regrets; and he did all in his power to convince the ladies that it really was never meant that those who purchased tickets for the night should enter the private boxes of ladies who disposed of their tickets.

"And pray, sir," said the eldest lady bridling, "do we look like people who would bemean ourselves by going into the pit?"

"Don't let's have no more to do," said the powdered gentleman pompously. "Mr. Ebers! we request you to prevent this bold young man and woman from making a noise, as we comed here for to see the Opera, not to listen to all the absurd things you choose to tell us. When we want you we will call on you in your own shop!"

"Do sit down, Mr. Ebers," said I, pointing to a chair, which he accepted for a few moments, merely to repeat his regrets that we had been so intruded upon.

I was now determined to have these people out, _coûte qu'il coûte._

"Madam," said I to the ugliest lady, "I take it for granted from your appearance, that you are a lady of strict virtue?"

The woman stared at me!

"Consequently," I continued, "it must be painful for you to continue with a woman so notoriously wicked as I am, and in my private box too! just as if you were a particular friend of mine."

"Now, Hopkins! what's to be done?" said the two ladies at once.

"I am not joking," continued I, "as you will soon ascertain beyond a doubt, since I expect the pork-merchant with whom I have promised to pass the night every instant."

"All quite true, madam," said Churchill, quietly, "and farther, I was her companion last night. It was her respect for you which has made her so very anxious to have you out before she sends for the bottle of brandy she usually takes here; because she is the most violent creature in the world after she has got a little here," pointing to his forehead.

"Mr. Hopkins, come out!" said the ladies, and out they all bundled.

Churchill followed them some paces down the passage, on purpose to laugh at them, and returned handing in Julia and Fanny.

Fanny could not for the life of her help laughing, and yet she was so good, and loved me so dearly, she could not but feel hurt that I had given myself so bad a character.

"Why make yourself out worse than you are?" she asked.

"Never mind, dear Fan, plenty of people are left to make the best of themselves. One wants a little variety in life."

"Is that Berkeley Paget peeping out of Amy's box? Why he looks like a schoolmaster of Athens! Oh how beautiful Lady Foley is! As to those vacant Pagets one is tired of seeing them, they are so proud and stupid. Now I love pride; but hate your Lady Jane Paget-stupidity."

"When do you mean to leave off talking nonsense?" said Fanny.

"As soon as ever Lady Ann Wyndham will deign to lay aside her leopard-fur tippet, with gold tassels, thrown off her bosom to keep her cold, and her yellow blinds: but look at Her Royal Highness the ---- of ----; I thought it was a gold fish."

"Upon my honour she is an odd fish," said Lord Glengal, who came in time enough to hear my last remark.

Next followed Luttrell, Nugent, Lord William Russell, Clanronald, Macdonald, Lord of the Isles, &c., and everybody inquired if I had received any news from the Peninsula, although everybody knew that it was as yet impossible; but then people must say something, otherwise they appear so stupid, you know!

At this time, I remember there were at least four men who were, or professed to be, in love with me, and I have forgotten their names; but I may recollect them for my next book.

It is very provoking! One was a bishop's son, and he used to sigh by the hour together. Then there was a little quiz of a lord, or rather an earl, who had long been married to a high-bred foreigner. However that poor little creature is so afraid of his wife, that, if he will only behave decently, I do not mean to publish him. There was the Boring Don also, whom some call Lord Boringdon: but I defy my worst enemy to prove that I was ever false to Worcester while I pretended to good faith, since it is absolutely impossible.

I passed a merry night and, as Mr. Nugent was bringing me to a hackney coach, as carriage was out of the question on the Duke of Beaufort's princely allowance, I observed Mr. Meyler waiting as if on purpose to speak to me slyly, as I passed just by the Haymarket-entrance to the theatre.

And Harriette Wilson had refused to become Marchioness of Worcester, to be waited for in a corner by a vile sugar-baker! Oh ye gods! I wonder I did not drop down dead on the spot. But as Lord Byron says, "There is no spirit nowadays," so I merely flew into a passion!

Meyler's beautiful dimple as he smiled on me, did not disarm me in the least.

"Mr. Meyler," said I, _en passant,_ "it is not necessary for you to conceal yourself in by-corners in order to acknowledge me, and for this very simple reason, I wish to be allowed to decline your acquaintance."

"But why?" asked Meyler, following us up.

"Merely that I consider you a dead bore," I added, as I stepped into the hackney coach and was followed by Julia. Fanny had retired early with Colonel Parker.

Nugent directed our coachman to Camden Town, and then wished us a good night: but we had scarcely got clear of the throng of carriages, when we observed a man in silk stockings running after us, bawling to the coachman to stop.

It was Mr. Meyler, who came up to the coach-window quite out of breath, to beg very earnestly and humbly, that we would permit him to enter the carriage just for a few moments, while he made his apologies and explained things.

"It is so perfectly unnecessary, Mr. Meyler, that I hope you will not detain us any longer."

"Mrs. Johnstone," said Meyler, addressing Julia beseechingly, "pray intercede for me. Do pray allow me to speak to you five minutes. You may put me down again at White's in St. James's Street, if you are tired of me."

"Oh! there can be no harm since we are two," said Julia.

And, in spite of all I could say or do to prevent her, she pulled the check string, and Meyler seated himself by my side, declaring he was willing to prove at the very next Opera, how desirous and how proud he should feel to acknowledge and protect me there or anywhere else.

I told him I had merely spoken in haste, as the thing struck me at the moment; that it was forgotten the next, and, if I had been rude, I was ready to apologise rather than be teased any longer on a subject which must be so uninteresting to all parties. Situated as I was with his friend Lord Worcester, and being about to retire into Devonshire till his lordship's return, what was the use of making acquaintances?

"Oh dear," said Julia, "what shall I do?"

"What has happened to you pray?" I inquired.

"Oh, I am ruined--I shall be ruined! The man will arrest me for his bill. I had all the trouble in the world to get two twenty pound notes out of Napier at the Opera to-night, for the purpose of settling his bill with them early in the morning, and they are gone!"

Poor Julia, as she turned over her reticule for the last time, appeared the image of despair. We had only just entered Pall Mall. Meyler, glad to be employed rather than be turned out altogether, entreated us to wait in the coach, while he ran back to search my box for Julia's bank-notes.

Julia, being more in debt than she dared to acquaint her stingy lover Napier with, and really dreading the bailiffs every hour of her life, was miserably agitated at this accident; and, being pregnant as usual, she was seized with violent sickness just as Meyler had left us.

"What will become of me?" said she. "I must drive off directly. I would rather go to prison than disgust that charming young man with my sickness."

I thought it cruel to keep her waiting since she was so very ill, and therefore, seeing the watchman standing in his box, I offered to let her set me down and drive off without me.

"How can you wait in this dress in the middle of the streets?" Julia asked.

I told her I would put my shawl over my head, and present the watchman with a shilling, desiring his protection for a few seconds, that I might not miss Mr. Meyler with the bank-notes.

Julia grew worse, and I made the coachman drive her home without me.

In about ten minutes Meyler came running towards the spot where I stood, and appeared to be looking eagerly about for our hackney-coach.

"Here, Mr. Meyler," said I, tapping him on the arm.

"No, no, not to-night," said Meyler, pushing me from him, without looking at me.

"It is Harriette," said I, and he turned round in much astonishment.

"You here alone?" said Meyler, "good heavens! I beg you ten thousand pardons."

"Julia was seized with such a violent head-ache and sickness, that it was misery for her to remain an instant; therefore I made her drive home without me."

Meyler was evidently delighted to find me alone in the streets, but, having discovered that nothing was to be done with me, without a little more ceremony than he at first considered would be necessary, he began by expressing his regrets that no money was to found and, still more, he lamented having just lent his carriage to Lady Castlereagh.

"How could I be so stupid," said he: "but you will allow me to set you down in a hackney-coach?"

"Certainly not," was my reply; and, lest he should again run after me, I declared that, since the evening was so warm and moonlight, I proposed walking home, if he insisted on accompanying me, and we actually walked full dressed from Pall Mall to Camden Town; during which said long walk Meyler endeavoured to make himself as amiable as possible, and took his leave at my door, without teasing me for anything except permission to call on me some morning.

He was so very pressing, that I was at last foolish enough to say he might pay me a visit at Julia's on the following Thursday, and he left me quite satisfied and delighted, with having obtained so much more than he had expected from my manner of receiving his advances at the beginning of the evening.

* * * * *

I omitted to acquaint my readers that, just before the departure of Lord Worcester, Her Grace of Beaufort took it into her head to break the seals of my letters. It was very odd that so immaculate a lady could venture to cast her chaste eyes on the private letters of Harriette Wilson--the vile, profligate Harriette Wilson--addressed to her lover! Moreover, it was surely dishonourable and dishonest: at least, it would have been called so if I had done it; and then the duchess declared to her son that my last letter was such an indecent one she could not read it, and she proceeded to reason on the immorality of a paragraph at the very bottom of my paper; which proves true the old saying--liars must have good memories.

_N'importe!_

I called on Julia the next morning, to acquaint her that I had taken the liberty of inviting Meyler to her house, because I knew it would make Lord Worcester miserable if I were to receive him in my own.

"I like your making apologies," said Julia, "when you know how very much I admire the lovely creature Meyler. Apropos," continued Julia, "my two banknotes were in my bosom all the while, and I want very much to apologise to that dear, little, blooming, arch-looking man, for all the trouble I have given him."

I could not but fancy Julia was not so much my friend as she ought to have been, considering how anxious I had always shown myself for her welfare, in thus encouraging Meyler; and I went home more than usually interested about Lord Worcester; because Julia tried to make me neglect him.

In this humour, I sent off a few lines to Mr. Meyler, begging to be excused from my promise of meeting him at Mrs. Johnstone's. "All this is infinitely amiable of me," I reflected with much self-complacency, for I was very dull by myself, and Meyler, as to externals, was much to my taste.

Julia informed me in the evening that Meyler had sat with her for more than two hours, hoping to see me, and had gone away much disappointed.

The next day, I received a letter from him begging permission to call on me; and, as I sent no answer, he took the liberty of coming to my house without permission, and I had some difficulty, and so had my servant, in getting him out of it, and which was not till he had made every possible effort to see me, for he went upstairs and tried to open the door of my sitting-room, which I had locked.

The moment he was fairly out of the house I addressed the following note to him.

"Miss Wilson presents her compliments to Mr. Meyler, is under the necessity of informing him that she requires a little more respect than he seems disposed to show towards her. Mr. Meyler might have taken it for granted that, if she had been at home this morning and disposed to receive his visits, she should not have been denied to him.

"CAMDEN TOWN."

On Saturday, I could not well turn Meyler out of a box in which Julia had a share, without her consent, and I was teased and talked into allowing him to set us down; but nothing could induce me to admit him into my house nor to remain alone with him an instant anywhere.

I had promised to send Worcester a journal of everything I did; and it really is so little in my nature, that it is scarcely in my power to be artful; and so, as I would not walk about Camden Town to enjoy a _tête-à-tête_ by moonlight, Julia was pressed into the service, and we all three wandered about the fields, and Meyler sighed and talked downright sentimentally, about leading a chaste life for my sake and sending away all these women! At this of course we both laughed; but Meyler continued in the same humour for two months longer. I never received a single visit from him at my own house, and insisted over and over again that he should not be admitted into my Opera-box: but Meyler had so many little winning ways really they were overpowering to a poor weak woman! He would tap at the door of my box, and Julia would open it, and assure him that I should quarrel with them both if she admitted him: and Meyler, instead of looking cross, would sigh, and point to a rose in his bosom, and desire Julia to tell me that it was the rose I gave him a week before, and he had preserved it with the greatest care. Then he would go downstairs, and then his legs were so beautiful, and his skin so clear and transparent, and Meyler was sentimental for the first time in his life!

Really all these things and thirty thousand a year besides were enough to melt a heart of stone: and, as we were going out of the Opera, we were sure to see Meyler's bright smile as he stood watching for us. Then, if there was the least difficulty about coaches, &c., he would come up and say mildly, that his carriage was at the door and, if we would use it, he would not enter it but go home in a friend's. In short, Meyler was so very humble, persevering, and indefatigable, that he contrived to see and converse with me every day of my life in spite of all I could do to prevent him, although I never once admitted him to my house, or to a _tête-à-tête_, and I wrote Worcester a full and most exact account of all my proceedings. I even went so far as to tell him, I really was afraid Meyler's attention might create a very strong fancy, notwithstanding I certainly had not esteem for him. To prevent the possibility of this I proposed retiring into some quiet village in Devonshire.

This my readers, I mean my young and handsome readers, will admit was a sort of thing easier said than done. London was so very gay! Meyler so very attentive! _Tout le monde_ seemed so very much to admire my person, and delight in my conversation; and I was about to leave all this for a dull village, where I was to pass one of the most brilliant years of my life in perfect solitude.

"I will make any settlement on you you may please to ask of me," said Meyler, "if you will but leave Worcester and live with me."

"You have told me this at least fifty times already," I replied, "and you really may spare yourself any further useless trouble. I must follow the dictates of my heart whatever may become of me. There will be a consolation in a clear conscience, and, in leaving Worcester, I should feel that I deserved the worst that could happen to me, and both your lives might be lost in a duel: or, if Worcester was killed abroad, having first cursed me for my conduct, I should never get over it: else, you know I am full half in love with you, and Worcester knows well I was never one bit in love with him."

"Then if you do love me," said Meyler, "I will hold myself disengaged, and wait for my chance of you during the whole of that year you have promised to wait for Worcester's return."

I laughed at Meyler's promises, assuring him I had not the least faith in them.

Worcester was eternally writing to me, and nothing could be more romantically tender than his letters. No power on earth could tempt him, or should ever induce him, while he breathed, to even bestow a single kiss on any woman's lips but mine, &c.; then followed very excellent descriptions of battles, with a long account of Parker, for Fanny.

These very kind letters at length determined me to leave London.

The last evening I passed in town was truly a dull one to me. "No doubt," thought I, "this gay young volatile creature, surrounded as he is by temptation, will forget me in less than a month! I am unprovided for, and am leaving every friend on earth, to wander about for a lone lodging in a dismal village. It cannot be helped! Worcester's mind must be set at rest; because there was nothing he was not ready to do for me."

"Where is there a village?" said I to Luttrell, who informed me that there was a village called Charmouth, within thirty miles of Exeter, which, as he once passed through it, had struck him as particularly picturesque.

"That will do," said I, sick of the dry, dull subject; and I took a place for myself and my _femme de chambre_ in the Exeter mail without further delay.

Meyler was half cooled, as soon as I was quite determined to leave London; but still he was very melancholy.

"Might he write to me?" he inquired.

"Yes," said I, "but your letters will be shown to Worcester, mind; so you must confine yourself to mere friendship. If, however, circumstances force me to leave his lordship and you are good enough to remember me with kindness, I will gladly come to you."

"In a year, then," said Meyler, "if Worcester does not return?"

"All that must depend on circumstances," I replied.

Meyler shed one tear at parting--_c'était beaucoup pour lui,_ and he gave me a gold toothpick case, with some of his hair in it; so, having taken leave of Fanny and Julia, fancy me and my maid in the Exeter mail on our road to Charmouth: and, in about one fortnight after my arrival in this village, my reader may imagine me sitting at a little, rural, thatched window, in that beautiful country, addressing the following long letter to my sister Fanny:

"Charmouth, Devonshire

"MY DEAREST SISTER,--I really am afraid you will accuse me of want of affection towards you, in having suffered a whole fortnight to elapse without acquainting you of my arrival in this part of the world. The fact is my constitution is really good for nothing, and I have only just recovered the fatigues of two successive nights passed in the mail-coach. I could have scribbled a few lines it is true; but then I thought it would be so cockney-like, to put you to the expense of heavy postage, merely to state our safe arrival; and I waited till I could give you some little account of myself.

"To begin then, we got here at about six in the evening, without anything in the least romantic having occurred to us; for we were neither upset nor thrown into a pond, just as a lovely youth happened to be passing by.

"One of these incidents ought really to have occurred; _mais enfin que voulez-vous?_ It was a beautiful May evening when the mail-coach set us down at a little country-looking sort of pot-house in this village. I was wretchedly oppressed by melancholy and fatigue. I inquired for beds, and was informed by very good luck that my landlady's only bed-room, containing two small, neat, white beds, was at our disposal. The stair-case was a ladder, or rather a ladder was the stair-case. We will not be particular. I was soon in bed, and my maid contrived to procure me a cup of tea, which is all I remember happening to me till about eight the next morning, when the broad sun, shining in my face for want of window-curtains, induced me to rise. As for my maid, she was already dressed and busy with my trunks, searching out my clean linen. I am sorry, really, for the most noble the Marquis of Worcester, but the fact is, my very first thoughts on awaking, and my most sincere regrets, were for the miles which now separated me from poor, little, beautiful Meyler. In short, having done everything right towards Worcester, I loved him much less for that very reason. My maid, as you know, is really superior to the generality of _femmes de chambre,_ and as I have had reason to believe is really attached to me: still, I fancy, she must have left somebody yet dearer to her in London, from her extreme melancholy. However, my own spirits were this morning so deeply oppressed, that I liked her the better for being of my humour.

"As soon as I was dressed, my good-natured landlady begged I would come down to breakfast, while it was hot. She gave us most excellent Devonshire cream and hot Devonshire cakes. In short, everything was so clean and delicious in its way, that it was difficult not to be hungry.

"After our breakfast we inquired for a guide, to show us some of the beauties of that part of the country.

"'My little boy will take you over to Lyme Regis. He is particularly cute, and can tell you more than I can,' said the good landlady.

"'What distance is Lyme Regis from this village?' I inquired.

"'Oh laws! only about two miles, and the most beautifullest walk in the world.'

"Behold us then, on our road to Lyme Regis, with a little cute Devonshire lad for our guide. I cannot describe the scenery like Mrs. Radcliffe, I wish I could; but alas! I have not an idea of the kind, and yet I can feel and enjoy it. Devonshire you know is a very hilly country, and the air is almost as pure as that in Italy. After following our guide for about a quarter of a mile, along a close, narrow lane, entirely shaded from the sun, we turned a sudden angle, when such a magnificent view of the ocean presented itself, as absolutely fixed us to the spot for nearly ten minutes. I wish I could describe it, for nothing in the shape of scenery ever made such an impression on me as that we enjoyed in our walk from the village of Charmouth to the pretty little watering-place called Lyme Regis. It was about twelve o'clock when we arrived there.

"Lyme Regis is a sort of Brighton in miniature, all bustle and confusion, assembly-rooms, donkey-riding, raffling, &c. &c. It was sixpence per night to attend the assemblies, and much cheaper if paid by the season. We went to a little inn and dined. From the window, I was much amused to see the number of smart old maids that were tripping down the streets, in turbans or artificial flowers twined around their wigs, on the light fantastic toe, to the sixpenny assembly-rooms at five in the evening! They were very pleasantly situated near the sea, and as we walked past their windows we saw them all drinking tea and playing cards. There were amongst them persons of the highest rank; but the society was chiefly composed of people of very small independent fortunes, who for economy had settled at Lyme Regis; or of such as required sea-bathing; natives, either of Exeter or any neighbouring town. There were plenty of furnished lodgings to be let at Lyme Regis; but I determined if possible to establish myself at Charmouth, that place being so much more to my taste.

"'It will be impossible, madam,' said the landlady where we dined, 'since Charmouth is a very genteel village, inhabited by persons of small fortunes, who would not condescend to let lodgings or take in boarders. There are not perhaps three dozen houses in the whole village, and certainly not one lodging-house. All are independent and proud, except the owners of a few huts round about that neighbourhood, to whom the gentry of Charmouth are very kind and charitable.'

"'Well then, I must return, much against my will, to establish myself here,' said I. This idea increased my melancholy, for I hate, and always did hate, anything like London in miniature. Give me town or country _en grand!_ Solitude or the best society; but I abhor little sixpenny assembly-places.

"At eight o'clock in the evening we arrived at our humble inn at Charmouth in a donkey-cart, and immediately retired to rest. At six the next morning, since the broad daylight would not suffer me to sleep, I determined to walk all about the village in search of lodgings, before I could be induced to give up the hopes of securing a residence there. We found no difficulty in procuring the same excellent breakfast, which was served up with perfect neatness by half-past six, and at a little after seven the gay and fashionable Harriette Wilson was to be seen strolling about the little village of Charmouth as though it had been her native place, and she had never heard tell of the pomps and vanities of this very wicked world.

"We carefully examined every house we passed for a bill indicative of lodgings to let; but in vain. They all appeared to be inhabited by some respectable individual, neither rich nor poor. We had walked twice through the village and round about it, and were bending our steps towards our little pot-house in mute despair, when my attention was arrested by the striking loveliness of a young lady who was watering some flowers at one of the windows of a house I had before admired for its peculiar neatness. She smiled so very graciously that I was encouraged in my wish to address her. The moment she saw me make towards the little street-door, she ran and opened it herself. After many apologies, I entreated to be informed if I was likely to succeed in obtaining board and lodging with any private family at Charmouth. The young lady entreated me to walk into the parlour and sit down. We chatted together for about a quarter of an hour, like people who had taken a liking to each other, and then she left me to speak to her mother on the subject of procuring me a comfortable residence. In a short time she returned, and presented me to two very respectable-looking women in deep mourning, as her mother and aunt. After a little more conversation, Mrs. Edmond, which was the name of the young lady's mother, spoke to me to this effect: 'I am the widow of an officer in the navy, whose death, when abroad, I learned ten years ago from a brother-officer who had been present, and came here to convey his last requests to his family; since that moment, having for ever renounced the world, I live only in my child, and have nothing to do on earth but to attend to and promote her happiness. She feels greatly disposed to benefit by your pleasant society, and has made it her anxious request that I will offer you an asylum in my house: therefore, if you like to inhabit a snug room which faces the country, it is at your service, and you may keep it entirely for your own use. I have also a servant's room for your maid, and, if you can accustom yourself to our family dinner, the thing is arranged at once.'

"I could scarcely conceal my surprise at finding such good, innocent, confiding people, ready thus to take a stranger in without making a single inquiry. However, as I determined to act with the strictest propriety, and conform to the established rules of the family, to be regular at church too for the sake of example, I conceived that it was certainly not incumbent on me to turn king's evidence against myself as to my former irregularities, or, as my friend Miss Higgins would say, little peccadillos. I pressed them to name terms for me and my maid at once, and the price they asked for being troubled with us both was so ridiculously moderate that I insisted on doubling it, and refused to hear another word on the subject. These good people would not even allow me to return to the little inn, but despatched a man, with my _femme de chambre_, to pay my bill and bring my trunks to me.

"Every thing, which the warmest affection or the oldest friendship could have dictated, was put in practice for our comfort and accommodation. I had a nice bedroom, adjoining the snug little sitting-room where I am now writing, and Mrs. Edmond, who has long studied the qualities of medicine, in order to render herself useful to the poor people about the village, insisted on doctoring me, declaring that I was feverish. One of the ladies rubbed my feet, another administered white wine-whey, and another--but I have swelled my letter to such an enormous length, that I must defer saying any more about these good people till my next. I am very anxious to hear from you, and I confess I should like to know if Meyler has entirely forgotten me.

"What vain creatures we are! I expected to have received at least half a dozen letters from that young gentleman ere this. Alas! not a single line! Do pray, dear Fanny, let me soon be consoled in this extreme case, by an account of his having hanged or shot himself! I must enclose this to the Marquis of Hertford, not to ruin you. Pray write soon to a poor melancholy recluse, and believe me ever,

"Your most affectionate sister, "H.W.

"P.S.--How do Amy and her schoolmaster of Athens go on?"