She half rose from her
chair, and exclaimed in the true tone of aristocratic _hauteur_, "Really,
sir, I do not know what right you have to ask me that question."

I laughed a little, though not very loud. It was rude, I own; but who
could have helped it? I replied, speaking low, but slowly and
distinctly--"You forget. I did not send for you; you came to me. You have
forged bills to the amount of twelve hundred pounds. Yours is not the
case of a ruined merchant or an ignorant over-tempted clerk. In your case
a jury"--(she shuddered at that word)--"would find no extenuating
circumstances; and if you should fall into the hands of justice you will
be convicted, degraded, clothed in a prison-dress, and transported for
life. I do not want to speak harshly; but I insist that you find means to
take up the bill which Mr. Axminster has so unwittingly endorsed!"

The Honorable Miss Snape's grand manner melted away. She wept. She seized
and pressed my hand. She cast up her eyes, full of tears, and went
through the part of a repentant victim with great fervor. She would do
anything--anything in the world to save the poor man. Indeed, she had
intended to appropriate part of the two hundred pound bill to that
purpose. She forgot her first statement, that she wanted the money to go
out of town. Without interrupting, I let her go on and degrade herself by
a simulated passion of repentance, regret, and thankfulness to me, under
which she hid her fear and her mortification at being detected. I at
length put an end to a scene of admirable acting, by recommending her to
go abroad immediately, to place herself out of reach of any sudden
discovery; and then lay her case fully before her friends, who would no
doubt feel bound to come forward with the full amount of the forged
bills. "But," she exclaimed, with an entreating air, "I have no money; I
cannot go without money!" To that observation I did not respond although
I am sure she expected that I should, check-book in hand, offer her a
loan. I do not say so without reason; for, the very next week, this
honorable young lady came again, and, with sublime assurance and a number
of very charming, winning speeches, (which might have had their effect
upon a younger man), asked me to lend her one hundred pounds, in order
that she might take the advice I had so obligingly given her, and retire
into private life for a certain time in the country. I do meet with a
great many impudent people in the cou