angel, crying like a baby!' And I could not help saying, ''Tis the serpent's tooth, Mrs. I.' What you wrote to your benefactor (and I had hoped patron) I don't care to guess; something very rude and imprudent it must be, judging by the few lines he addressed to me. I don't mind copying them for you to read. All my acts are above board—as often and often and often Captain H. used to say, 'Your heart is in a glass-case, Jessica;' and so it is! but my son keeps his under lock and key.
"'Madam' (this is whathe writes to me), 'your son has thought fit to infringe the condition upon which I agreed to assist you on his behalf. I inclose a reply to himself, which I beg you will give to his own hands without breaking the seal. Since it did not seem to you indiscreet to communicate to a boy of his years letters written solely to yourself, you can not blame me if I take your implied estimate of his capacity to judge for himself of the nature of the correspondence, and of the views and temper of, Madam, your very,obedient servant.' And that's all, to me. I send his letter to you—seal unbroken. I conclude he has done with you forever, and your career is lost! But if it be so, oh, my poor, poor child! at that thought I have not the heart to scold you farther. If it be so, come home to me, and I'll work and slave for you, and you shall keep up your head and be a gentleman still, as you are, every inch of you. Don't mind what I've said at the beginning, dear—don't! you know I'm hasty, and I was Aurt. But you could not mean to be sly and underhand—'twas only your high spirit—and it was my fault; I should not have shown you the letters. I hope you are well, and have quite lost that nasty cough, and that Mr. Vance treats you with proper respect. I think him rather too pushing and familiar, though a pleasant young man on the whole. But, after all, he is only a painter. Bless you, my child, and don't have secrets again from your poor mother.
The inclosed letter was as follows:
"Lionel Hauguton,—Some men might be displeased at receiving such a letter as you have addressed to me; I am not. At your years, and under the same circumstances, I might have written a letter much in the same spirit. Relieve your mind—as yet you owe me no obligations; you have only received back a debt due to you. My father was poor; your grandfather, Robert Haughton, assisted him in the cost of my education. I have assisted your father's son; we are quits. Before, however, we
