s of his how I spend my money, or where and how I pass my life.
Not long ago I heard that he was going to issue a writ of lunacy against
me, in order to get me and my property into his possession. This is
mean; for he very well knows that I am not mad; and he is very rich, so
that there is no excuse for his avarice. Fortunately, he don't know me
personally--never saw me since I was a child--and as I never go by my
real name, it is not a very easy matter for him to discover me. I don't
like this place, but it is quiet and out of the way. I think I shall
remain where I am, till he gets tired of hunting me out. I trust to your
honour, young people; you must not betray my secret."

Both promised to say nothing about what she had so frankly communicated.

"I take you at your word," continued Miss Carr; "I like your appearance,
and would willingly improve my acquaintance. I often watched you from my
windows; and yesterday I asked Mrs. Turner who you were. Her account was
so much in your favour, that I determined to introduce myself the first
time we accidentally encountered each other. I know your names and where
you live. May I come and occasionally enjoy an hour's chat?"

"We shall only be too happy," said Flora, in spite of a warning pinch
from Lyndsay, which said, as plainly as words could have done, "She's
mad; as mad as a March hare." But Flora would not understand the hint.
She felt flattered by the confidence so unexpectedly reposed in them by
the odd creature; and vanity is a great enemy to common sense.

"Mind," said Miss Wilhelmina, turning abruptly to Lyndsay, "I don't want
to see you at my house. I'm a single woman, and, though not very young,
I'm very particular about my character. I never allow a male creature to
enter my doors. I'm not fond of men--I have no reason to be fond of
them. They never were commonly civil to me; and I hate them generally
and individually. When I come to see your wife of course I don't expect
you to hide out of the way, or peep at me through crannies, as if I
were a wild beast. I shall call to-morrow morning, and so, good day.

"Muff! Muff!--My incomparable! my perfect!--What are you doing? Frisking
beside that ugly black cur! He's no companion for a dog of your breeding
and degree. Away, you vulgar-looking brute." And running across the
road, she seized hold of a pedlar's dog, who was having a great game of
romps with her favourite, and gave it a most unjust and unmerciful
belabou