places. For these Mrs. Catherine had in the first place to make a
story, which she did; and a very glib one for a person of her years
and education. Being asked whither she was bound, and how she came
to be alone of a morning sitting by a road-side, she invented a neat
history suitable to the occasion, which elicited much interest from
her fellow-passengers: one in particular, a young man, who had
caught a glimpse of her face under her hood, was very tender in his
attentions to her.

But whether it was that she had been too much fatigued by the
occurrences of the past day and sleepless night, or whether the
little laudanum which she had drunk a few hours previously now began
to act upon her, certain it is that Mrs. Cat now suddenly grew sick,
feverish, and extraordinarily sleepy; and in this state she
continued for many hours, to the pity of all her fellow-travellers.
At length the "carryvan" reached the inn, where horses and
passengers were accustomed to rest for a few hours, and to dine; and
Mrs. Catherine was somewhat awakened by the stir of the passengers,
and the friendly voice of the inn-servant welcoming them to dinner.
The gentleman who had been smitten by her beauty now urged her very
politely to descend; which, taking the protection of his arm, she
accordingly did.

He made some very gallant speeches to her as she stepped out; and
she must have been very much occupied by them, or wrapt up in her
own thoughts, or stupefied by sleep, fever, and opium, for she did
not take any heed of the place into which she was going: which, had
she done, she would probably have preferred remaining in the coach,
dinnerless and ill. Indeed, the inn into which she was about to
make her entrance was no other than the "Bugle," from which she set