use, and might be
their ruin. They therefore promised, that no man should be brought to
her but by her own consent.

Mrs. Rowland prevailed on her to drink a dish of tea, and taste some
bread and butter, about eleven on Saturday morning: which she probably
did to have an excuse not to dine with the women when they returned.

But she would not quit her prison-room, as she called it, to go into
their parlour.

'Unbarred windows, and a lightsomer apartment,' she said, 'had too
cheerful an appearance for her mind.'

A shower falling, as she spoke, 'What,' said she, looking up, 'do the
elements weep for me?'

At another time, 'The light of the sun was irksome to her. The sun
seemed to shine in to mock her woes.'

'Methought,' added she, 'the sun darting in, and gilding these iron bars,
plays upon me like the two women, who came to insult my haggard looks, by
the word beauty; and my dejected heart, by the word haughty airs!'

Sally came again at dinner-time, to see how she fared, as she told her;
and that she did not starve herself: and, as she wanted to have some talk
with her, if she gave her leave, she would dine with her.

I cannot eat.

You must try, Miss Harlowe.

And, dinner being ready just then, she offered her hand, and desired her
to walk down.

No; she would not stir out of her prison-room.

These sullen airs won't do, Miss Harlowe: indeed they won't.

She was silent.

You will have harder usage than any you have ever yet known, I can tell
you, if you come not into some humour to make matters up.

She was still silent.

Come, Miss, walk down to dinner. Let me entreat you, do. Miss Horton is
below: she was once your favourite.

She waited for an answer: but received none.

We came to make some proposals to you, for your good; though you
affronted us so lately. And we would not let Mrs. Sinclair come in
person, because we thought to oblige you.

This is indeed obliging.

Come, give me your hand. Miss Harlowe: you are obliged to me, I can tell
you that: and let us go down to Miss Horton.

Excuse me: I will not stir out of this room.

Would you have me and Miss Horton dine in this filthy bed-room?

It is not a bed-room to me. I have not been in bed; nor will, while I am
here.

And yet you care not, as I see, to leave the house.--And so, you won't go
down, Miss Harlowe?

I won't, except I am forced to it.

Well, well, let it alone. I sha'n't ask Miss Horton to dine in this
ro