ich I had hitherto seen was that of
Clemenza Lodi. I recalled her condition as I had witnessed it, as
Welbeck had described, and as you had painted it. The past was without
remedy; but the future was, in some degree, within our power to create
and to fashion. Her state was probably dangerous. She might already be
forlorn, beset with temptation or with anguish; or danger might only be
approaching her, and the worst evils be impending ones.

I was ignorant of her state. Could I not remove this ignorance? Would
not some benefit redound to her from beneficent and seasonable
interposition?

You had mentioned that her abode had lately been with Mrs. Villars, and
that this lady still resided in the country. The residence had been
sufficiently described, and I perceived that I was now approaching it.
In a short time I spied its painted roof and five chimneys through an
avenue of _catalpas_.

When opposite the gate which led into this avenue, I paused. It seemed
as if this moment were to decide upon the liberty and innocence of this
being. In a moment I might place myself before her, ascertain her true
condition, and point out to her the path of honour and safety. This
opportunity might be the last. Longer delay might render interposition
fruitless.

But how was I to interpose? I was a stranger to her language, and she
was unacquainted with mine. To obtain access to her, it was necessary
only to demand it. But how should I explain my views and state my wishes
when an interview was gained? And what expedient was it in my power to
propose?

"Now," said I, "I perceive the value of that wealth which I have been
accustomed to despise. The power of eating and drinking, the nature and
limits of existence and physical enjoyment, are not changed or enlarged
by the increase of wealth. Our corporeal and intellectual wants are
supplied at little expense; but our own wants are the wants of others,
and that which remains, after our own necessities are obviated, it is
always easy and just to employ in relieving the necessities of others.

"There are no superfluities in my store. It is not in my power to supply
this unfortunate girl with decent raiment and honest bread. I have no
house to which to conduct her. I have no means of securing her from
famine and cold.

"Yet, though indigent and feeble, I am not destitute of friends and of
home. Cannot she be admitted to the same asylum to which I am now
going?" This thought was sudden and n