ted, no
consideration would induce her to deliver him up.

30th.--Alas! my kind neighbours will not let me alone. By some means
they have ferreted me out, and I have had to sustain visits from three
different families, all more or less bent upon discovering who and what I
am, whence I came, and why I have chosen such a home as this. Their
society is unnecessary to me, to say the least, and their curiosity
annoys and alarms me: if I gratify it, it may lead to the ruin of my son,
and if I am too mysterious it will only excite their suspicions, invite
conjecture, and rouse them to greater exertions--and perhaps be the means
of spreading my fame from parish to parish, till it reach the ears of
some one who will carry it to the Lord of Grassdale Manor.

I shall be expected to return their calls, but if, upon inquiry, I find
that any of them live too far away for Arthur to accompany me, they must
expect in vain for a while, for I cannot bear to leave him, unless it be
to go to church, and I have not attempted that yet: for--it may be
foolish weakness, but I am under such constant dread of his being
snatched away, that I am never easy when he is not by my side; and I fear
these nervous terrors would so entirely disturb my devotions, that I
should obtain no benefit from the attendance. I mean, however, to make
the experiment next Sunday, and oblige myself to leave him in charge of
Rachel for a few hours. It will be a hard task, but surely no
imprudence; and the vicar has been to scold me for my neglect of the
ordinances of religion. I had no sufficient excuse to offer, and I
promised, if all were well, he should see me in my pew next Sunday; for I
do not wish to be set down as an infidel; and, besides, I know I should
derive great comfort and benefit from an occasional attendance at public
worship, if I could only have faith and fortitude to compose my thoughts
in conformity with the solemn occasion, and forbid them to be for ever
dwelling on my absent child, and on the dreadful possibility of finding
him gone when I return; and surely God in His mercy will preserve me from
so severe a trial: for my child's own sake, if not for mine, He will not
suffer him to be torn away.

November 3rd.--I have made some further acquaintance with my neighbours.
The fine gentleman and beau of the parish and its vicinity (in his own
estimation, at least) is a young . . . .

* * * * *

Here it ended. The