revolving in my mind every possible course that I could take at the
interview of the morrow. It would be a difficult and a delicate
business. I knew nothing of Mr. Sherwin's character; yet I must trust
him with a secret which I dared not trust to my own father. Any
proposals for paying addresses to his daughter, coming from one in my
position, might appear open to suspicion. What could I say about
marriage? A public, acknowledged marriage was impossible: a private
marriage might be a bold, if not fatal proposal. I could come to no
other conclusion, reflect as anxiously as I might, than that it was
best for me to speak candidly at all hazards. I could be candid enough
when it suited my purpose!

It was not till the next day, when the time approached for my
interview with Mr. Sherwin, that I thoroughly roused myself to face
the plain necessities of my position. Determined to try what
impression appearances could make on him, I took unusual pains with my
dress; and more, I applied to a friend whom I could rely on as likely
to ask no questions--I write this in shame and sorrow: I tell truth
here, where it is hard penance to tell it--I applied, I say, to a
friend for the loan of one of his carriages to take me to North Villa;
fearing the risk of borrowing my father's carriage, or my
sister's--knowing the common weakness of rank-worship and
wealth-worship in men of Mr. Sherwin's order, and meanly determining
to profit by it to the utmost. My friend's carriage was willingly lent
me. By my directions, it took me up at the appointed hour, at a shop
where I was a regular customer.

X.

On my arrival at North Villa, I was shown into what I presumed was the