very uneasy
indeed. I think, I may say, that for the next fortnight I was near to
distracted. It was my particular difficulty that I did not know
directly where he was; for I understood at first he was in the lodgings
of his wife's mother; but having removed myself to London, I soon
found, by the help of the direction I had for writing my letters to
him, how to inquire after him, and there I found that he was at a house
in Bloomsbury, whither he had, a little before he fell sick, removed
his whole family; and that his wife and wife's mother were in the same
house, though the wife was not suffered to know that she was in the
same house with her husband.

Here I also soon understood that he was at the last extremity, which
made me almost at the last extremity too, to have a true account. One
night I had the curiosity to disguise myself like a servant-maid, in a
round cap and straw hat, and went to the door, as sent by a lady of his
neighbourhood, where he lived before, and giving master and mistress's
service, I said I was sent to know how Mr. ---- did, and how he had
rested that night. In delivering this message I got the opportunity I
desired; for, speaking with one of the maids, I held a long gossip's
tale with her, and had all the particulars of his illness, which I
found was a pleurisy, attended with a cough and a fever. She told me
also who was in the house, and how his wife was, who, by her relation,
they were in some hopes might recover her understanding; but as to the
gentleman himself, in short she told me the doctors said there was very
little hopes of him, that in the morning they thought he had been
dying, and that he was but little better then, for they did not expect
that he could live over the next night.

This was heavy news for me, and I began now to see an end of my
prosperity, and to see also that it was very well I had played to good
housewife, and secured or saved something while he was alive, for that
now I had no view of my own living before me.

It lay very heavy upon my mind, too, that I had a son, a fine lovely
boy, about five years old, and no provision made for it, at least that
I knew of. With these considerations, and a sad heart, I went home
that evening, and began to cast with myself how I should live, and in
what manner to bestow myself, for the residue of my life.

You may be sure I could not rest without inquiring again very quickly
what was become of him; and not venturing to