k if you will wait upon and care for
her properly."

Before going to bed I wrote her a polite note, begging her to leave the
closet. She did so, but she went into another back room, and consented to
take coffee for her breakfast. Wishing to make her dine and sup with me,
I was dressing myself, and preparing to proffer my request in such a way
as to make a refusal impossible, when young Cornelis was announced. I
received him smilingly, and thanked him for the first visit he had paid
me in the course of six weeks.

"Mamma hasn't allowed me to come. I have tried to do so a score of times
without her leave. Read this letter, and you will find something which
will surprise you."

I opened the letter and read as follows:

"Yesterday a bailiff waited for my door to be opened and slipped in and
arrested me. I was obliged to go with him, and I am now in the
sponging-house, and if I can't get bail by to-day he will take me to
Kings Bench Prison. The bail I require is to the amount of two hundred
pounds, to pay a bill which has fallen due. Dear friend, come and succour
me or else my other creditors will get wind of my imprisonment and I
shall be ruined. You surely will not allow that to happen, if not for my
sake at least for the sake of my innocent children. You cannot bail me
yourself, but you can easily get a householder to do so. If you have the
time come and call on me, and I will shew you that I could not help doing
the bill, otherwise I could not have given my last ball, as the whole of
my plate and china was pledged."

I felt angry with the impudent woman who had hitherto paid me so little
attention, and I wrote that I could only pity her, and that I had no time
to go and see her, and that I should be ashamed to ask anyone to bail her
out.

When young Cornelis had gone away in a melancholy mood, I told Clairmont
to ask Pauline if she would allow me to bid her a good day. She sent word
that I was at liberty to do so, and on going upstairs to her room I found
her sitting at a table on which were several books.

Some linen on a chest of drawers did not give me the idea that she was
very poor.

"I am immensely obliged," said she, "for all your goodness to me."

"Say nothing of that, madam; it is I who have need of your goodness."

"What can I do to shew my gratitude?"

"Could you trouble yourself to take your meals with me? When I am alone I
eat like an ogre, and my health suffers. If you do not feel inclined to