d from it. Her knowledge of the youth,
and of the time and manner of his disappearance, made it impossible for
me, with so minute a narrative, to impose upon her credulity. Every
word, every incident related, attested my truth, by their agreement with
what she herself previously knew.

Her suspicious and angry watchfulness was quickly exchanged for downcast
looks, and stealing tears, and sighs difficultly repressed. Meanwhile, I
did not pause, but described the treatment he received from my mother's
tenderness, his occupations, the freaks of his insanity, and, finally,
the circumstances of his death and funeral.

Thence I hastened to the circumstances which brought me to the city;
which placed me in the service of Welbeck, and obliged me to perform so
ambiguous a part in her presence. I left no difficulty to be solved, and
no question unanticipated.

"I have now finished my story," I continued, "and accomplished my design
in coming hither. Whether I have vindicated my integrity from your
suspicions, I know not. I have done what in me lay to remove your error;
and, in that, have done my duty. What more remains? Any inquiries you
are pleased to make, I am ready to answer. If there be none to make, I
will comply with your former commands, and leave the house with as
little ceremony as I entered it."

"Your story," she replied, "has been unexpected. I believe it fully, and
am sorry for the hard thoughts which past appearances have made me
entertain concerning you."

Here she sunk into mournful silence. "The information," she at length
resumed, "which I have received from another quarter respecting that
unfortunate youth, astonishes and perplexes me. It is inconsistent with
your story, but it must be founded on some mistake, which I am, at
present, unable to unravel. Welbeck, whose connection has been so
unfortunate to you----"

"Unfortunate! Dear madam! How unfortunate? It has done away a part of my
ignorance of the world in which I live. It has led me to the situation
in which I am now placed. It has introduced me to the knowledge of many
good people. It has made me the witness and the subject of many acts of
beneficence and generosity. My knowledge of Welbeck has been useful to
me. It has enabled me to be useful to others. I look back upon that
allotment of my destiny which first led me to his door, with gratitude
and pleasure.

"Would to heaven," continued I, somewhat changing my tone, "intercourse
with Welbeck