d self, you would know that the bare idea of marrying again
(after what I have gone through) is an idea that makes my flesh creep.

"But there can be no harm in your sending me a little more information
while I am making up my mind. You have got twenty pounds of mine still
left out of those things you sold for me; send ten pounds here for
my expenses, in a post-office order, and use the other ten for making
private inquiries at Thorpe Ambrose. I want to know when the two
Blanchard women go away, and when young Armadale stirs up the dead ashes
in the family fire-place. Are you quite sure he will turn out as easy to
manage as you think? If he takes after his hypocrite of a mother, I can
tell you this: Judas Iscariot has come to life again.

"I am very comfortable in this lodging. There are lovely flowers in the
garden, and the birds wake me in the morning delightfully. I have hired
a reasonably good piano. The only man I care two straws about--don't be
alarmed; he was laid in his grave many a long year ago, under the name
of BEETHOVEN--keeps me company, in my lonely hours. The landlady would
keep me company, too, if I would only let her. I hate women. The new
curate paid a visit to the other lodger yesterday, and passed me on the
lawn as he came out. My eyes have lost nothing yet, at any rate, though
I _am_ five-and-thirty; the poor man actually blushed when I looked at
him! What sort of color do you think he would have turned, if one of the
little birds in the garden had whispered in his ear, and told him the
true story of the charming Miss Gwilt?

"Good-by, Mother Oldershaw. I rather doubt whether I am yours, or
anybody's, affectionately; but we all tell lies at the bottoms of our
letters, don't we? If you are my attached old friend, I must, of course,
be yours affectionately.

"LYDIA GWILT.

"P.S.--Keep your odious powders and paints and washes for the spotted
shoulders of your customers; not one of them shall touch my skin, I
promise you. If you really want to be useful, try and find out some
quieting draught to keep me from grinding my teeth in my sleep. I shall
break them one of these nights; and then what will become of my beauty,
I wonder?"

4. _From Mrs. Oldershaw to Miss Gwilt_.

"Ladies' Toilet Repository, Tuesday.

"MY DEAR LYDIA--It is a thousand pities your letter was not addressed to
Mr. Armadale; your graceful audacity would have charmed him. It doesn't
affect me; I am so well used to audacity in