ow very ill she really was. Well, after tea she put you to
bed, and prepared to go herself, and she told the chambermaid to call
her next morning at eight o'clock, for that, after breakfast, she
intended to continue her journey. She ordered breakfast too, but, poor
lady, when the morning came she was in a high fever.

'The good woman of the inn was terribly frightened, as you may suppose,
at having a strange lady ill in her house, and not knowing whom she
belonged to, nor whether she had money to pay her expenses, so she went
to Mr. Sanders, our clergyman, to advise with him what was to be done.
Then he went to the inn, and looked at your mother, and examined a
little trunk, which was all the luggage she had. It contained just a
change of linen for herself and you, and rather more than forty pounds
in bank-notes and money, but no letters, nor any writing to tell who
she was. The linen, both yours and your mother's, was marked A. M., and
the trunk had the same letters in brass nails.

'Then the clergyman asked you your name; you said it was Lady Anne. Then
he asked you your father's and mother's, and you said it was my lord and
my lady, and that was all the answer he could get from you, for you did
not know anything about a surname, and I must say I think it is a very
foolish thing not to teach children their names and proper directions,
for if you could have told yours, your friends would have been wrote to,
and you would now have been with them, instead of being a poor little
beggar in a workhouse; but I suppose, as your parents kept their
carriage, they did not think there was any occasion that you should know
your name and your direction; so much the worse for you.

'But to go on with my story. When Mr. Sanders asked your age, you said
you were five years old, and that was all he could learn from you. Well,
your mother was very ill, and did not know anything they asked her; she
did not even know you, though you sat on the bed, by her, and did all
you could to make her notice you, but it was all of no use, your poor
mother could not notice anything. Then a doctor was sent for, and as
soon as he came he said that the lady would die, but that he would do
all in his power to save her, and so, I believe, he did, but it was all
in vain, for on the third evening your mother died. The parish buried
her very decently, for Mr. Sanders said that, as she had left money, she
should not be buried like a pauper, and he would have