She now began to look over her letters, and determined
to wait that morning on Lady Winterton and
Mrs. Sackville, who lived both in a &longs;treet near Cavendi&longs;h
&longs;quare. She had two more letters, but they were to
ladies in the city.

Rebecca's dre&longs;s was plain and neat in the extreme,
yet there was a dignity in her per&longs;on and manner that
ever commanded re&longs;pect: She, therefore, on knocking
at Lord Winterton's door, was immediately u&longs;hered into
a parlour, and the &longs;ervant took the letter to his Lady.

The Lady was at her morning toilet. She ca&longs;t her
eyes ha&longs;tily over the letter.

“What kind of a per&longs;on brought this, Thomas?”
&longs;aid &longs;he to the man who waited ju&longs;t without the door
of the dre&longs;&longs;ing room.

“A very genteel young woman,” replied the man.

“Well, &longs;hew her into the breakfa&longs;t parlour, and tell
her I &longs;hall be with her pre&longs;ently. Is my Lord up?”

“Yes, my Lady, he is ju&longs;t gone down.”

“Well, go, do as I bid you.”

The man departed, and Rebecca was de&longs;ired to walk
into a parlour, where in his night gown and &longs;lippers,
&longs;at a per&longs;onage, the exact counterpart of Lord Ogleby
in the Clande&longs;tine Marriage.

Rebecca &longs;tarted, and was going to retire.

“Pray, Madam,” &longs;aid my Lord, ri&longs;ing, “do not
let me frighten you; my Lady will be here directly.
Thomas, a chair for the young Lady.”

Rebecca blu&longs;hed, court&longs;eyed, and took her &longs;eat.

My Lord eyed her attentively. She felt her confusion
increa&longs;e.

“She is a very fine girl,” thought his Lord&longs;hip; I
wonder who the devil &longs;he is.”

“The weather is very fine for the &longs;ea&longs;on, Madam,”
&longs;aid he, thinking it was incumbent upon him to &longs;ay
&longs;omething, though, in fact, it had rained ince&longs;&longs;antly
for a week.

“The &longs;un did break out for about an hour this morning;”
&longs;aid our heroine, half &longs;miling; “but he &longs;eems to
have withdrawn him&longs;elf again.”

[figure description] Page 152.[end figure description]

“He was con&longs;cious, Madam, that when your beauties
were vi&longs;ible to the admiring eyes of mortals, his
fainter glories could not be mi&longs;&longs;ed.”

“Heavens!” thought Rebecca, “what a ridiculous
old man, with his bomba&longs;tic compliment: However, I
am glad he is old; perhaps his Lady may want a per&longs;on
to read to her, or by cheerful a&longs;&longs;iduity, otherwi&longs;e amu&longs;e
her. She had, in her own mind, pictured Lady Winterton
as an elderly Lady, perhaps upwards of &longs;ixty
years old. In this family,” thought &longs;he, “&longs;hould I be
&longs;o happy as to be placed, I &longs;hall be free from the noi&longs;e
and impertinence &longs;o frequently to be met with in the families
of young people of quality. I dare &longs;ay they do
not keep much company; nay, perhaps, live in the
country above half the year. I wi&longs;h I may &longs;uit her Ladyship;
&longs;he certainly wants &longs;omebody, either for her&longs;elf
or &longs;ome of her freinds, by her de&longs;iring me to wait to &longs;ee
her.”

As Rebecca was indulging the&longs;e reflections the door
opened, and a Lady entered, in appearance not more
than twenty, habited in a very modi&longs;h undre&longs;s.

“Mi&longs;s Littleton, I pre&longs;ume,” &longs;aid &longs;he, advancing—
Rebecca court&longs;eyed.

“Colonel Abthorpe,” &longs;aid the Lady, motioning for
her to be again &longs;eated, “has had a very di&longs;agreeable
time in America. I dare &longs;ay you are happy to find
your&longs;elf in England again.”

“Sincerely &longs;o, Madam.”

“This thought Rebecca, is undoubtedly a daughter.”

“The Colonel mentions,” re&longs;umed the Lady, “that
you would wi&longs;h to engage as companion to an elderly
Lady, or as governe&longs;s to &longs;ome genteel family of children.”

“Either &longs;ituation would &longs;uit me, Madam,” &longs;aid
Rebecca; and if Lady Winterton could recommend
me—.”

“Lady Winterton wants a companion her&longs;elf,” &longs;aid
the Lady, &longs;miling; “but, perhaps, her age will be an
objection.”

“By no means, Madam; I &longs;hould give the preference
to an elderly Lady.”

[figure description] Page 153.[end figure description]

The Lady laughed; Rebecca blu&longs;hed, and feared &longs;he
had been guilty of &longs;ome impropriety.

“Why, my dear creature,” &longs;aid the Lady, “I am
afraid, then, that you and I &longs;hall never agree, though
Colonel Abthorpe &longs;eemed to think that you might prove
an acqui&longs;ition to me; but I am too young for you, &longs;o
mu&longs;t po&longs;itively turn you over to my Lord; he is more
adapted to your ta&longs;te.”

“Your Lady&longs;hip mu&longs;t pardon my ignorance,” &longs;aid
the trembling, blu&longs;hing Rebecca; “I really had no
idea.”

“Hear her! hear her! my dear Lord; &longs;he had no
idea that your &longs;enatorial wi&longs;dom could have for wife
&longs;uch an incon&longs;iderate rattle. I would bet a thou&longs;and
pounds &longs;he took you for my papa.”

“Your Lady&longs;hip is plea&longs;ed to di&longs;play your wit at the
expence of good manners,” &longs;aid his Lord&longs;hip.

“Oh! I humbly crave pardon,” cried &longs;he with a
mo&longs;t bewitching &longs;mile, “I meant no offence; you know
I cannot help other people's mi&longs;takes; for my own part
I think you infinitely charming; then twi&longs;ting one of
his grey locks round her beautiful fingers, &longs;he continued:
“The &longs;now on the hills, and the icicles pendant
from the leafle&longs;s trees in December, are in my eyes, to
the full as beautiful as the variegated fields and full-blown
hawthorn in May. I like every thing in its &longs;ea&longs;on, and
am moreover a great admirer of natural curio&longs;ities.”

“Impertinent!” &longs;aid his Lord&longs;hip, ri&longs;ing angrily,
and quitting the room.

“Well, now he is gone,” &longs;aid her Lady&longs;hip, drawing
her chair near Rebecca, “let us have a little &longs;erious
talk. You cannot &longs;uppo&longs;e that inclination led me to
give my hand to that ludicrous piece of antiquity:
No, my dear girl, I married him to &longs;erve a father,
whom next to heaven, I love, and to get from the
power of an ill-natured old maiden aunt, who had kept
me at &longs;chool for fear I &longs;hould mar her fortune, and despoil
her of all her lovers; for &longs;he had thirty thou&longs;and
pounds independent fortune, and that gave her wizened
face and &longs;keleton figure ten thou&longs;and charms; &longs;he or her

[figure description] Page 154.[end figure description]

fortune had admirers innumerable. I was always with
her at the holidays. My Lord &longs;aw me at the play.
Charmed with the idea of getting me married out of the
way, &longs;he made her will, bequeathing to me all her fortune,
in ca&longs;e &longs;he died without i&longs;&longs;ue.

“This was buzzed about—her lovers all for&longs;ook her—
and poor aunty died of a broken heart in the fifty
ninth year of her age! My father had married this Lady's
&longs;i&longs;ter. He was poor. She was the co-heire&longs;s of a
la ge fortune; but alas! &longs;he knew not that if &longs;he married
without her guardians con&longs;ent, the whole of her fortune
went to her elde&longs;t &longs;i&longs;ter.

“Di&longs;appointment and &longs;orrow &longs;oon put a period to
her exi&longs;tence. My father continued in poverty, but I
was committed to the care of my wealthy aunt.

“At that time I became acquainted with Lord Winterton,
my father's circum&longs;tances were dreadfully embarrassed.
My aunt would not advance a &longs;ingle guinea
to keep him from a gaol. I knew this marriage would
place him in affluence, and at the age of &longs;ixteen, gave
my hand, promi&longs;ed to love and obey, before my heart
knew what love was. I have been married now five
years; my temper is naturally cheerful, and I am an
enemy to thought; but I have that within me which
convinces me I have a heart alive to every delicate sensation
of di&longs;intere&longs;ted tenderne&longs;s.

“You may, perhaps, think it odd, that I am thus
open to a &longs;tranger; but Colonel Abthorpe, who was
the intimate friend of my father, has given you a character
as bade me to wi&longs;h to make an intere&longs;t in your
heart, that I may &longs;ay I have one bo&longs;om in which I can
repo&longs;e my &longs;orrows, one friend who will pity my frailties.”

Rebecca felt inclined to love this unfortunate young
creature from the fir&longs;t moment &longs;he beheld her. A very
few words &longs;erved to &longs;ettle every preliminary, and it was
agreed that the very next day &longs;he &longs;hould repair to her
new &longs;ituation.

As the time allowed her was &longs;o very &longs;hort, Rebecca
thought &longs;he would make u&longs;e of the re&longs;t of that day to

[figure description] Page 155.[end figure description]

deliver all the other letters; “for,” &longs;aid &longs;he, “it is
right that I &longs;hould wait on the&longs;e Ladies, though I am
&longs;ettled with Lady Winterton; they may at &longs;ome future
period be of &longs;ervice to me.” She accordingly repaired
to Mrs. Sackville's.

Being &longs;hewn into the drawing-room, a tall, meagre
figure pre&longs;ented it&longs;elf, who &longs;carcely deigned an inclination
of the head as &longs;he took the letter, and, waving her
hand, cried, “Sit down young woman.”

Having read the letter—“And &longs;o you have been in
America, child? cried the Lady, with the &longs;ame &longs;olemn
a&longs;pect. “Well, I dare &longs;ay, they are all in fine confusion
there; but let their di&longs;tre&longs;s be ever &longs;o great, it is
no more than they de&longs;erve, a parcel of rebels.”

“They may have been mi&longs;led,” cried Rebecca, an
enthu&longs;ia&longs;tic ardour animating her expre&longs;&longs;ive countenance;
“but they are in general a brave, benevolent &longs;et
of people.”

“'Tis a pity, as you are &longs;o partial, you had not remained
among&longs;t them.”

“I had no friends there, Madam, and wi&longs;hed to return
to my native country.”

“Nay, you have not many friends here,” &longs;aid the
Lady, with a &longs;arca&longs;tic &longs;mile, “according to the Colonel's
account.”

Rebecca's eyes filled with tears.—Mrs. Sackville continued:
“I do not know of any body at pre&longs;ent who
wants a young per&longs;on of your de&longs;cription.”

“You will pardon me, Madam,” &longs;aid Rebecca, for
this intru&longs;ion; “I did it merely in re&longs;pect to the generous
attention of Colonel Abthorpe, who furni&longs;hed me
with &longs;everal letters; but I have been &longs;o fortunate as to
be engaged this very morning as companion to Lady
Winterton.”

“'Tis very well,” &longs;aid Mrs. Sackville, to&longs;&longs;ing her
head: “Lady Winterton, I believe, wanted a convenient
friend, and very po&longs;&longs;ible you may &longs;uit her purpo&longs;e:
However young woman, do not &longs;ay you go into her
family without knowing what kind of a woman &longs;he is. I
have a very great regard for Lady Winterton, and

[figure description] Page 156.[end figure description]

&longs;hould be very &longs;orry to &longs;ay any thing to her disadvantage;
but all the world knows &longs;he married Lord Winterton
to hide an infamous intrigue with a low bred fellow
whom nobody knows. I thank heaven I have been
brought up to know the real value of virtue, and &longs;hould
be very &longs;orry to &longs;ee a decent looking body, like yourself,
companion to a woman of no principle: However,
you are to do as you plea&longs;e; I have given you my opinion,
and you mu&longs;t take the con&longs;equence of rejecting my
advice.” She then rang the bell, and Rebecca departed
with no very high opinion of her good nature, whatever
her other virtues might be.

She then repaired into the city, and delivered the
other two letters, but neither of the ladies were at
home; &longs;he therefore immediately proceeded to her
lodgings, and informed Mrs. Harris of the &longs;ucce&longs;s of
her excur&longs;ion. Mrs. Harris advi&longs;ed her not to be di&longs;heartened at the account Mrs. Sackville had given of
Lady Winterton; but &longs;hould &longs;he find her the unprincipled
woman &longs;he had been repre&longs;ented, to leave her immediately.

“Surely,” &longs;aid Rebecca, “&longs;he cannot be abandoned
to vice; if her countenance is the index of her mind.”

On the evening of this day our heroine received a
friendly letter from Mrs. Barton, who gave her a pressing
invitation to vi&longs;it her, and make her hou&longs;e her
home: but Rebecca dete&longs;ted a &longs;tate of dependence—
&longs;he therefore wrote a grateful return to this invitation,
and acquainted her with her engagement with Lady
Winterton.