ed with a longing look, and a tearful eye. How menial I
have been to procure a notice, a glance of kindness! I had nothing to
give wherewith to bribe affection but services and labour, and those
were either refused, or perhaps accepted with scorn. I was the only
pariah among two hundred and fifty. There was a mystery and an obloquy
attached to me, and the master had, by his interdiction, completely put
me without the pale of society. I now said my lessons to the ushers
with indifference--if I acquitted myself ill, I was unpunished--if well,
unnoticed. My spirits began to give way fast, and I was beginning to
feel the pernicious patronage of the servants. They would call me off
the play-ground, on which I moped, send me on some message, or employ me
in some light service. All this was winked at by the master, and as for
the mistress, she never let me know that it occurred to her that I was
in existence. It was evident that Mr Root had no objection to all
this, for, in consideration of the money paid to him for my education,
he was graciously pleased to permit me to fill the office of his
kitchen-boy. But, before I became utterly degraded into the menial of
the menials, a fortunate occurrence happened that put an end to my
culinary servitude. To the utter surprise of Mr and Mrs Root, who
expected nothing of the kind, a lady came to see me. What passed
between the parties, before I was ushered into the parlour appropriated
to visitors, I know not; it was some time before I was brought in, as
preparatory ablutions were made, and my clothes changed. When I
entered, I found that it was "the lady." I remember that she was very
superbly dressed, and I thought, too, the most beautiful apparition that
I had ever beheld. The scene that took place was a little singular, and
I shall relate it at full.

As I have rigidly adhered to truth, I have been compelled to state what
I have to say in a form almost entirely narrative; and have not imitated
those great historians, who put long speeches into the mouths of their
kings and generals, very much suited to the occasions undoubtedly, and
deficient only in one point--that is, accuracy. I have told only of
facts and impressions, and not given speeches that it would have been
impossible for me to have remembered. Yet, in this interview there was
something so striking to my young imagination, that my memory preserved
many sentences, and all the substance of what took place.