been exemplary. I had sore trials with the dear captain--and IMMENSE
temptations. But he said on his death-bed, "Jessica, you are an angel."
And I have had offers since,--IMMENSE offers,--but I devoted myself to my
child, as you know. And what I have put up with, letting the first
floor, nobody can tell; and only a widow's pension,--going before a
magistrate to get it paid! And to think my own child, for whom I have
borne so much, should behave so cruelly to me! Clandestine! that is that
which stabs me. Mrs. Inman found me crying, and said, "What is the
matter?--you who are such an angel, crying like a baby!" And I could
not help saying, "'T is the serpent's tooth, Mrs. L" What you wrote to
your benefactor (and I had hoped patron) I don't care to guess; something
very rude and imprudent it must be, judging by the few lines he addressed
to me. I don't mind copying them for you to read. All my acts are
aboveboard, as often and often Captain H. used to say, "Your heart is in
a glass case, Jessica;" and so it is! but my son keeps his under lock
and key.

"Madam [this is what he writes to me], your son has thought fit to
infringe the condition upon which I agreed to assist you on his behalf.
I enclose a reply to himself, which I beg you will give to his own hands
without breaking the seal. Since it did not seem to you indiscreet to
communicate to a boy of his years letters written solely to yourself, you
cannot blame me if I take your implied estimate of his capacity to judge
for himself of the nature of a correspondence, and of the views and
temper of, madam, your very obedient servant." And that's all to me.

I send his letter to you,--seal unbroken. I conclude he has done with
you forever, and your CAREER is lost! But if it be so, oh, my poor, poor
child I at that thought I have not the heart to scold you further. If it
be so, come home to me, and I 'll work and slave for you, and you shall