s cunning as
a fox too,' I used to answer. 'She is beautiful as an angel,' he went
on; 'Did you ever see such eyes?'--'Never but my first sweetheart's,
Sally Malkins,' said I. But then he turned gruff, and would say,
'Pshaw!' for he never could be pleased with any body praising Mrs.
Isabel, but himself and that make-believe good young Lord with a wicked
father."

While Dr. Lloyd deliberated how to proceed, an aged woman appeared in
sight, with a basket on her arm, seemingly employed in gathering herbs.
"St. George be my speed!" exclaimed Jobson; "Can that be Madam
Mellicent? Ah, sure enough it is her sharp wrinkled face: I never
thought she would bend her stiff joints, or walk in the dirt without her
riding-hood." Dr. Lloyd offered to go and accost her. "Not for your
life," replied Jobson; "she never would forgive me for letting you catch
her thus out of sorts. Stop behind that buttress, and I'll go and tell
her there is some company coming, and when she has put on her pinners
and facings, she will be very glad to see you."

Mrs. Mellicent's appearance was too indicative of profound dejection for
Dr. Lloyd to believe she would require any introductory ceremonials. He
ventured to salute her with an abrupt assurance, that he was a warm
friend of her family, intrusted with a welcome and important
communication. Mrs. Mellicent fixed her eyes upon him with that look of
inquisitorial diffidence which those who have long been familiarized
with distress and injustice, bestow on the dawn of better days. "I can
hardly suspect," said she, "that you are one of those who find amusement
in sporting with the feelings of the unhappy. You see in me the forlorn
relic of a respectable family, now supported by those who were fed at
its gates in the days of my prosperity. Yet as far as I can, I try to be
independent; and my knowledge in medicine allows me to alleviate the
pains of those who shelter my grey hairs.--My brother, his daughter, and
the sole surviving child of a beloved sister, now in Heaven, are at this
moment exposed to the dreadful trial of Republican persecution. Poverty
chains me to this spot, where I drew my first breath, and where, if
those I love are sacrificed, I hope soon to close my eyes on sorrow."
"You have," said Dr. Lloyd, "omitted to name another strong tie which
should bind you to life. You have a brave and gallant nephew, who loves
and honours the maternal aunt, who checked his extravagancies and
fostered his