ny
other person at the saw-mills. There had not been time for any answer
to my letter of some two months back, yet being alarmed by the Sawyer's
last tidings, I longed, with some terror, for later news. And all the
United Kingdom was now watching with tender interest the dismemberment,
as it almost appeared, of the other mighty Union. Not with malice, or
snug satisfaction, as the men of the North in their agony said, but
certainly without any proper anguish yet, and rather as a genial
and sprightly spectator, whose love of fair play perhaps kindles his
applause of the spirit and skill of the weaker side. "'Tis a good
fight--let them fight it out!" seemed to be the general sentiment; but
in spite of some American vaunt and menace (which of late years had been
galling) every true Englishman deeply would have mourned the humiliation
of his kindred.

In this anxiety for news I begged that my letters might be forwarded
under cover to the postmistress at Shoxford, and bearing my initials.
For now I had made up my mind to let Mrs. Busk know whatever I could
tell her. I had found her a cross and well-educated woman, far above her
neighbors, and determined to remain so. Gossip, that universal leveler,
theoretically she despised; and she had that magnificent esteem for
rank which works so beautifully in England. And now when my good nurse
reasonably said that, much as she loved to be with me, her business
would allow that delight no longer, and it also came home to my own mind
that money would be running short again, and small hope left in this
dreadful civil war of our nugget escaping pillage (which made me shudder
horribly at internal discord), I just did this--I dismissed Betsy, or
rather I let her dismiss herself, which she might not have altogether
meant to do, although she threatened it so often. For here she had
nothing to do but live well, and protest against tricks of her own
profession which she practiced as necessary laws at home; and so, with
much affection, for the time we parted.

Mrs. Busk was delighted at her departure, for she never had liked to be
criticised so keenly while she was doing her very best. And as soon as
the wheels of Betsy's fly had shown their last spoke at the corner, she
told me, with a smile, that her mind had been made up to give us notice
that very evening to seek for better lodgings. But she could not wish
for a quieter, pleasanter, or more easily pleased young lady than I was
without any