ficiently adapted to excite his wonder; he had
heard of my elopement from the house of Mr. Hadwin, he was a stranger to
the motives that prompted my departure, and to the events that had
befallen me, and no interview was more distant from his expectations
than the present. His curiosity was written in his features, but this
was no time to gratify his curiosity. The end that I now had in view was
to procure accommodation for Eliza Hadwin in this man's house. For this
purpose it was my duty to describe, with simplicity and truth, the
inconveniences which at present surrounded her, and to relate all that
had happened since my arrival.

I perceived that my tale excited his compassion, and I continued with
new zeal to paint to him the helplessness of this girl. The death of
her father and sister left her the property of this farm. Her sex and
age disqualified her for superintending the harvest-field and the
threshing-floor; and no expedient was left but to lease the land to
another, and, taking up her abode in the family of some kinsman or
friend, to subsist, as she might easily do, upon the rent. Meanwhile her
continuance in this house was equally useless and dangerous, and I
insinuated to my companion the propriety of immediately removing her to
his own.

Some hesitation and reluctance appeared in him, which I immediately
ascribed to an absurd dread of infection. I endeavoured, by appealing to
his reason as well as to his pity, to conquer this dread. I pointed out
the true cause of the death of the elder daughter, and assured him the
youngest knew no indisposition but that which arose from distress. I
offered to save him from any hazard that might attend his approaching
the house, by accompanying her hither myself. All that her safety
required was that his doors should not be shut against her when she
presented herself before them.

Still he was fearful and reluctant; and, at length, mentioned that her
uncle resided not more than sixteen miles farther; that he was her
natural protector, and, he dared to say, would find no difficulty in
admitting her into his house. For his part, there might be reason in
what I said, but he could not bring himself to think but that there was
still some danger of _the fever_. It was right to assist people in
distress, to-be-sure; but to risk his own life he did not think to be
his duty. He was no relation of the family, and it was the duty of
relations to help each other. Her uncle was th