my pension to maintain myself and child; which made me, two years after, marry a tradesman in a good way of business; but he took to drinking, and I was forced every night to fetch him from the public house. I used then to think of poor William; yet I must say, for all that, he never gave me an angry word. Howsomever, he soon drank himself to death, and left me with six children, to battle through this world by myself, and only this house of furniture, that I get money by letting, and a small trifle more, to maintain us all. I got a little besides by my labour, though not much; but every little helps, where there is many hungry mouths to feed; but God be praised, her children, she added, were now all grown up, and were as honest and worthy a set of young people as any in the land, though she said it, that should not say it; and able to help their mother if she chose to take any thing from them."

Amelrosa expressed her concern for the afflic

E 5

afflictions she had known, and was congratulating her on their happy termination, when the fat woman going to a small closet, brought out a bottle of gin and a glass, and pouring out some, begged Amelrosa to take it, saying it was very good for low spirits, and would do her more good from not being used to it. Indeed, it was her only comfort for many a good year; and finding her arguments could not prevail, which she was sorry for, drank off a large bumper herself; while Amelrosa at this sight, could with difficulty command her countenance, melancholy as she was, and asked her if she knew to what place Mrs. Belmont was gone. "She told me to the neghbourhood of Bath," rejoined Fatty ; "and so the nurse said; but I'm much afeard that what I mentioned to her, hurried her away; though she was so generous as to make me a present of two guineas above what she owed for her lodgings, which I was loth to take.

"You

"You must know, my dear Miss, that the very night after you came last, a lady muffled up, desired to speak with me, and another woman waited in the street while she came in. She slipped a guinea into my hand, saying she would thank me to answer a few questions about you and Mr. Belmont. Howsomever, I was up to her, and minded what I said. Thinks I you want to pump me, but you shan't though, for all your guinea, which I'll take for all that; it will be of sarvice to me, as you chuse to be such a fool. I believe she wan't much satisfied; yet I was civil, and went away presently. I drank her health in some liquor, which I bought with the and when it got up into my money, head, like a noodle as I was, went and blabbed what had passed to Mrs. Belmont, who seemed to be frightened exceeding about the lady; for she did not like to see a living soul, or to be inquired after, which I knew; but when the wine's in, the wit's out, as the saying is; and by what nurse said, that sartinly made her be

off in a jiffy.—I didn't want that tall gentleman in the soldiering dress, to go up to her; but he was quite angry, and would not be kept back. As for the lady that set Mrs. Belmont off, I wish she had been at Jericho, for all her golden guinea. She was a tall raw-boned thing, very dark favoured, and painted up to the eyes; not to my liking I assure you; and had a proud way with her. Joy go with her, I say."

Amelrosa, from this description, could not imagine who this curious person could be. The only being to whom it bore any resemblance, was Miss Stanhope; but why she could so eagerly pry into the affairs of Minette, or herself, she could not conceive, except it were to gratify the inqui sitiveness that her mother expressed to know where she so often visited: but whatever was the unknown motive, she was inwardly rejoiced she had met with no better success, or encouragement to repeat her inquiries.

The

The fat woman pressed Amelrosa, who now rose to take her leave, to stay some time longer; saying it would be a great while before she saw her sweet face again, if ever she did, as Mrs. Belmont was gone; but hoped, if she wanted lodgings at any time, she would come to her; Mrs. Belmont having promised to do so, and to come and see her when she came to town.

Amelrosa made a civil speech in reply, and Fatty in high good humour, attended her to the door. From thence, she repaired to a linen-draper's in Oxford-street; where she purchased some linen and muslin, that Emmeline had mentioned; and giving a direction to the place to which it was to be sent, they assured her it should go by the first conveyance. She then proceeded to a milliner's and haberdasher's, in Bondstreet, to purchase a hat and cloak, and desiring it might be carefully packed and conveyed as expeditiously as possible to Scotland, gave the address as before.

Amelrosa