er relief.
For this end I was to visit the female who had given me a direction to
her house. The name of this person is Achsa Fielding, and she lived,
according to her own direction, at No. 40 Walnut Street.

I went thither without delay. She was not at home. Having gained
information from the servant as to when she might be found, I proceeded
to Mrs. Wentworth's. In going thither my mind was deeply occupied in
meditation; and, with my usual carelessness of forms, I entered the
house and made my way to the parlour, where an interview had formerly
taken place between us.

Having arrived, I began, though somewhat unseasonably, to reflect upon
the topics with which I should introduce my conversation, and
particularly the manner in which I should introduce myself. I had opened
doors without warning, and traversed passages without being noticed.
This had arisen from my thoughtlessness. There was no one within hearing
or sight. What was next to be done? Should I not return softly to the
outer door, and summon the servant by knocking?

Preparing to do this, I heard a footstep in the entry which suspended my
design. I stood in the middle of the floor, attentive to these
movements, when presently the door opened, and there entered the
apartment Mrs. Wentworth herself! She came, as it seemed, without
expectation of finding any one there. When, therefore, the figure of a
man caught her vagrant attention, she started and cast a hasty look
towards me.

"Pray!" (in a peremptory tone,) "how came you here, sir? and what is
your business?"

Neither arrogance, on the one hand, nor humility, upon the other, had
any part in modelling my deportment. I came not to deprecate anger, or
exult over distress. I answered, therefore, distinctly, firmly, and
erectly,--

"I came to see you, madam, and converse with you; but, being busy with
other thoughts, I forgot to knock at the door. No evil was intended by
my negligence, though propriety has certainly not been observed. Will
you pardon this intrusion, and condescend to grant me your attention?"

"To what? What have you to say to me? I know you only as the accomplice
of a villain in an attempt to deceive me. There is nothing to justify
your coming hither, and I desire you to leave the house with as little
ceremony as you entered it."

My eyes were lowered at this rebuke, yet I did not obey the command.
"Your treatment of me, madam, is such as I appear to you to deserve.
Appearances are