however, it was Miss Jessup. She was passing through this town, in her
uncle's carriage, on Wednesday, on her way home. Seeing me come out of the
poor woman's lodgings, she stopped the coach, prated for five minutes, and
left me with ironical menaces of telling you of my frequent visits to a
single lady, of whom it appeared that she had some knowledge. Thus you see
that your disquiets have had no foundation but in the sportive malice of
your talkative neighbour.

Hannah Secker chanced to be talked of at Mr. Henshaw's as a poor
creature, who was sick and destitute, and lay, almost deserted, in a
neighbouring hovel. She existed on charity, which was the more scanty and
reluctant as she bore but an indifferent character either for honesty or
gratitude.

The name, when first mentioned, struck my ear as something that had
once been familiar, and, in my solitary evening walk, I stopped at her
cottage. The sight of her, though withered by age and disease, called her
fully to mind. Three years ago, she lived in the city, and had been very
serviceable to me in the way of her calling. I had dismissed her, however,
after receiving several proofs that a pair of silk stockings and a muslin
cravat offered too mighty a temptation for her virtue. You know I have but
little money to spare from my own necessities, and all the service I could
render her was to be her petitioner and advocate with some opulent
families in this place. But enough--and too much--of Hannah Secker.

Need I say that I have read your narrative, and that I fully acquit you
of the guilt laid to your charge? That was done, indeed, before I heard
your defence, and I was anxious to hear your story, merely because all
that relates to you is in the highest degree interesting to me.