think I tore off one of his buttons, I recollect its giving way;

wrong, my head wanders."

But I thought that, most likely, Nanny was right; so I looked down on the floor with the candle, and there I picked up a pensioner's button. "You're right, Nanny; here is the button." "Well, now, Jack, I can't talk any more; you won't leave me to-night, I'm sure."

"No, no, mother, that I will not; - try to go to sleep."

Hardly had Nanny laid her head down again, when it came across my mind like a flash of lightning that it must have been Spicer who had attempted the deed; and my reason for so thinking was, that the blow I had received on the mouth was not like that from the hand of a man, but from the wooden socket fixed to the stump of his right arm. The more I reflected upon it, the more I was convinced. He was a clever armourer, and had picked the lock; and I now recalled to mind what had never struck me before, that he had often asked me questions about Old Nanny, and whether I thought the report that she had money was cor

rect.

It was daylight before Old Nanny woke up, and then she appeared to be quite recovered. I told her my suspicions, and my intentions to ascertain the truth of them as far as I possibly could. "Well, and what then?" said Old Nanny.

66 Why, then, if we bring it home to him, he will be hanged, as he deserves."

"Now, Jack, hear me," said Old Nanny; "you wo'n't do anything I don't wish, I'm sure; and now I'll tell you, — that I never would give evidence against him or any other man to have him hanged. So, if you find out that it is him, do not say a word about it. Promise me, Jack."

"Why, mother, I can't exactly say that I will; but I will talk to Peter Anderson about it."

"It's no use talking to him; and, if you do, it must be under promise of secrecy, or I will not consent to it. Jack, Jack, recollect that my poor boy was hanged from my fault. Do you think I will hang another? Oh, no. Perhaps this very man had a foolish

wicked mother, like me, and has, like my boy, been led into guilt. Jack, you must do as I wish

you shall, Jack.”

"Well, mother, I have no animosity against the man himself; and, if you forgive him, I do not see why I should do any thing." "I don't forgive him, Jack; but I think of my own poor boy."

"Well, mother, since you wish it, it shall be so; and if I do prove that the man I suspect is the party, I will say nothing, and make Anderson promise the same, as I think he will. But how is it that people come to rob a poor old woman like you?

How is it, mother, that there is a report going about that you have money?"

"Is there such a report, Jack?"

"Yes, mother, every one says so; why, I do not know; and as long as it is supposed, you will always be subject to attacks like this; unless, indeed, if you have money, you were to put it away safely, and let everybody know that you have done so. Tell me truly, mother, have you any money?"

"Jack, what a boy you are to ask questions. Well, perhaps I have a little, -a very little; but no one will ever find out where I have hidden it."

"But they will try, mother, as this man has done; and you will always be in peril of your life. Why not place it into the hands of some safe person?"

"Safe person! Who's safe now-a-days?"

"Why, for instance, there's Mr. Wilson."

"Wilson! what do you know about him, Jack, except that he has a smooth face and a bald head? You're young, Jack, and don't know the world. The money's safe where it is, and no one will ever find it."

"If so, who is to find it after like to say, after she was dead.

"I stopped, for I did not

"I know what you would have said, Jack; who's to find it after my death? That's very true. I never thought of that, and I must will it away. I never thought of that, Jack; it's very true; and I'm glad that you have mentioned it. But who dare I tell?

Can I trust you, Jack? can I? — I ought;

for it's all for you, Jack, when I die."

-

"Mother, whoever it may be for, you may, I hope, trust me." "Well, I think I can. I'll tell you where it is, Jack, and that will prove that it is for you, for nobody else will know where to find it. But, Jack, dear, dear Jack, don't you rob me, as my son did; don't rob me, and leave me penny less, as he did; promise me?" "I never will, mother; you need not be afraid."

"Yes; so you say, and so he said; - he swore and he cried too, Jack, and then he took it all, and left his mother without

a farthing."

"Well, mother, then don't tell me; I'd rather not know; you will only be uncomfortable, and so let the money go."

"No, Jack, that wo'n't do either; I will tell you, for I can trust you. But first, Jack, go out and look behind the house, that there is no one listening at the window; for if any one should hear go, look round carefully, and then come back."

I did as she wished, and then Nanny bid me hold my head closer to her, while she whispered, "You must take the back out of the fire-place, and then pull out three bricks, and then put your hand into the hole, and you will find a small box; and there you will find a little money, a very little, Jack, hardly worth having; but still it may be of some use; and it's all yours when I die, Jack; I give it to you."

"Mother, I'm thankful for your kindness; but I cannot touch it, if you do die, without you leave it to me by your will."

"Ah! that's true, Jack. Well, tell Anderson to come here, and I'll tell him I'll leave the money to you; but I wo'n't tell him where it is; I'll only say that I leave you every thing I have. They'll suppose that it's the shop and all the pretty things." Here she chuckled for some time.

It was now broad daylight, and Nanny told me that she would like to get up, and see about a padlock being put to her door before night; so I wished her good-by, and left her.

CHAP. XL.

SHOWING THE GREAT ADVANTAGES TO BE DERIVED FROM PATRONAGE.

I LEFT Old Nanny, and arrived at my mother's house in time for breakfast. I did not, however, find her in a very good humour; something had evidently ruffled her. Virginia, also, who welcomed me most cordially, was taciturn and grave. My mother made but one observation during our repast.

"Well, Tom," said she, "you've found out what it is to wish to marry for love; I only wish it may be a lesson to others."

To this evident attack upon Virginia, at the expence of my feelings, I made no reply; and soon afterwards my mother went to superintend her establishment, leaving me and my sister alone.

"Tom," said she, "I hope by this time you are no longer suffering from your late cruel disappointment. I have felt for you, I assure you, and assuring you of that, will not again revert to the subject. Let her be blotted from your memory as soon as possible." "Be it so, my dear Virginia; but you are grave, and my mother is evidently out of humour. You must explain this."

"That is easily done; I have made a sad mistake. I was so much annoyed at my mother's system towards me that I ventured, without her knowledge, to write to Lady Hercules, requesting her protection and influence to procure me some situation as a companion to a lady, amanuensis, or reader. It appears that her ladyship was not very sincere in her professions when we had an interview with her; at all events, her reply was any thing but satisfactory, and, unfortunately, it was addressed to my mother, and not to me. You can have no idea of my mother's indignation upon the receipt of it; and she has not been sparing in her reproaches to me for having written without her knowledge, and having, by so doing, subjected her to such a mortification. I certainly am sorry to have done so. As for her ladyship's answer, it would have been to me more a subject of mirth than any other feeling. It has,

U

however, proved the cause of much annoyance from my mother's continually harping upon it."

"Have you the letter of Lady Hercules?"

"I have a copy of it, which I took, intending to have sent it to you the next time that I wrote. I will bring it down, if you will wait a minute."

When Virginia returned, she put the following epistle into my hand:

“Mrs. Saunders,

I have received a letter from your daughter, which, I presume, was forwarded as a specimen of her penmanship; otherwise it was your duty to have addressed me yourself. I said to you, when I met you at Greenwich, that you were educating your daughter above her condition in life, and I now repeat it. My patronage is extended only to those who are not above their situations, which, I am sorry to observe, most people are now. Nevertheless, as I did say that I would exert my influence in your daughter's behalf, in consequence of your having been a decent well-behaved menial to me, I have made inquiry among my acquaintances, and find that I may be, possibly, able to place her with my friend, Lady Towser, as aboudoir assistant.' I have said possibly, as I am by no means sure that she will be equal to the situation, and the number of applicants are very numerous. The enclosed paper from Lady Towser will give you an idea of what will be requisite :

Morning, up at 6, and nicely dressed; come in in list shoes, and wait at bedside, in case Lady Towser should be troubled with her morning cough, to hand the emulsion, &c. At 9, to call and assist to dress Lady Towser's head tire-woman; follow her to Lady T.'s chamber, and obey orders. Breakfast in housekeeper's room. After breakfast assist housemaid to dust ornaments, and on Saturdays and Wednesdays wash, comb, and examine dogs; other days, comb and examine them only; clean and feed macaw, cockatoo, and parrot, also canary and other birds; bring up dogs' dinners, and prevent them fighting at meals. After dogs' dinners read to Lady T., if required; if not, get up collars and flounces, laces, &c.