natural ringlets, as you have heretofore described it, but a little tangled, as if not lately combed, irregularly shading one side of the loveliest neck in the world; as her disordered rumpled handkerchief did the other. Her face [O how altered from what I had seen it! Yet lovely in spite of all her griefs and sufferings!] was reclined, when we entered, upon her crossed arms; but so, as not more than one side of it to be hid.

When I surveyed the room around, and the kneeling lady, sunk with majesty too in her white flowing robes, (for she had not on a hoop) spreading the dark, though not dirty, floor, and illuminating that horrid corner; her linen beyond imagination white, considering that she had not been undressed ever since she had been here; I thought my concern would have choaked me. Something rose in my throat, I know not what, which made me, for a moment, guggle, as it were, for speech! Which, at last, forcing its way, ConCon-confound you both, said I, to the man and woman, is this an apartment for such a lady? And could the cursed devils of her own sex, who visited this suffering angel, see her, and leave her, in so d-n'd a nook?

Sir, we would have had the lady to accept of our own bed-chamber: but she refused it. We are poor people-and we expect nobody will stay with us longer than they can help it.

You are people chosen purposely, I doubt not, by the d-n'd woman who has employed you: and if your usage of this lady has been but half as bad as your house, you had better never to have seen the light.

Up then raised the charming sufferer her lovely face; but with such a significance of woe over

spreading it, that I could not, for the soul of me, help being visibly affected.

She waved her hand two or three times towards the door, as if commanding me to withdraw; and displeased at my intrusion; but did not speak.

Permit me, madam-I will not approach one step further without your leave-permit me, for one moment, the favour of your ear!

No-no-Go, go; MAN, with an emphasis→→→ and would have said more; but, as if struggling in vain for words, she seemed to give up speech for lost, and dropped her head down once more, with a deep sigh, upon her left arm! her right, as if she had not the use of it, (numbed I suppose) self-moved, dropping down on her side.

O that thou hadst been there! and in my place! -But by what I then felt, in myself, I am convinced, that a capacity of being moved by the distresses of our fellow creatures, is far from being disgraceful to a manly heart. With what pleasure at that moment, could I have given up my own life, could I but first have avenged this charming creature, and cut the throat of her destroyer, as she emphatically calls thee, though the friend that I best love and yet, at the same time, my heart and my eyes gave way to a softness of which (though not so hardened a wretch as thou) they were never before susceptible.

I dare not approach you, dearest lady, without your leave but on my knees I beseech you to permit me to release you from this d-n'd house, and out of the power of the accursed woman, who was the occasion of your being here!

She lifted up her sweet face once more, and beheld me on my knees. Never knew I before what it was to pray so heartily.

Are you not are you not Mr. Belford, sir? I think your name is Belford?

It is, madam, and I ever was a worshipper of your virtues, and an advocate for you; and I come to release you from the hands you are in.

And in whose to place me?-O leave me, leave me! Let me never rise from this spot! Let me never, never more believe in man!

This moment, dearest lady, this very moment, if you please, you may depart whithersoever you think fit. You are absolutely free, and your own mistress.

I had now as lieve die here in this place, as any where. I will owe no obligation to any friend of him in whose company you have seen me. So, pray, sir, withdraw.

Then turning to the officer, Mr. Rowland I think your name is? I am better reconciled to your house than I was at first. If you can but engage that I shall have nobody come near me but your wife, (no man!) and neither of those women who have sported with my calamities; I will die with you, and in this very corner. And you shall be well satisfied for the trouble you have had with me-I have value enough for that-for, see, I have a diamond ring; taking it out of her bosom; and I have friends will redeem it at a high price, when I am gone.

But for you, sir, looking at me, I beg you to withdraw. If you mean me well, God, I hope, will reward you for your good meaning; but to the friend of my destroyer will I not owe an obligation.

You will owe no obligation to me, nor to any body. You have been detained for a debt you do not owe. The action is dismissed; and you will only be so good as to give me your hand into the

coach, which stands as near to this house as it could draw up; and I will either leave you at the coach-door, or attend you whithersoever you please, till I see you safe where you would wish to be. Will you then, sir, compel me to be beholden to you?

You will inexpressibly oblige me, madam, to command me to do you either service or pleasure. Why then, sir, [looking at me]—but why do you mock me in that humble posture! Rise, sir, I cannot speak to you else.

I arose.

Only sir, take this ring. I have a sister, who will be glad to have it at the price it shall be valued at, for the former owner's sake!-Out of the money she gives, let this man be paid, handsomely paid and I have a few valuables more at my lodging, (Dorcas, or the MAN William, can tell where that is ;) let them, and my clothes at the wicked woman's, where you have seen me, be sold for the payment of my lodging first, and next of your friend's debts, that I have been arrested for, as far as they will go; only reserving enough to put me into the ground, any where, or any how, no matter-tell your friend, I wish it may be enough to satisfy the whole demand; but if it be not, he must make it up himself; or, if he think fit to draw for it on Miss Howe, she will repay it, and with interest, if he insist upon it.-And this, sir, if you promise to perform, you will do me, as you offer, both pleasure and service; and say you will and take the ring, and withdraw. If I want to say any thing more to you (you seem to be an humane man) I will let you know-and so, sir, God bless you.

I approached her, and was going to speak-
Don't speak, sir: here's the ring.

I stood off.

And won't you take it? Won't you do this last office for me?-I have no other person to ask it of; else, believe me, I would not request it of you. But take it, or not, laying it upon the table-you must withdraw, sir: I am very ill. I would fain get a little rest, if I could. I find I am going to be bad again.

And offering to rise, she sunk down through excess of weakness and grief, in a fainting fit.

Why, Lovelace, wast thou not present thyself? -Why dost thou commit such villanies as even thou art afraid to appear in; and yet puttest a weaker heart and head upon encountering with them?

The maid coming in just then, the woman and she lifted her upon the decrepit couch; and I withdrew with this Rowland; who wept like a child, and said, he never in his life was so moved.

Yet so hardened a wretch art thou, that I question whether thou wilt shed a tear at my relation!

They recovered her by hartshorn and water. I went down meanwhile; for the detestable woman had been below some time. O how did I curse her! I never before was so fluent in curses.

She tried to wheedle me; but I renounced her and, after she had dismissed the action, sent her away crying, or pretending to cry, because of my behaviour to her.

You will observe, that I did not mention one word to the lady about you. I was afraid to do it. For 'twas plain, that she could not bear your name: your friend, and the company you have seen me in, were the words nearest to naming you, she could speak and yet I wanted to clear your intention of this brutal, this sordid looking villany.

I sent up again, by Rowland's wife, when I heard