reflected that only three years before this period I had dressed a waxen
doll nearly as large as a new-born infant.

Mr. Robinson had much business to transact in London, and I was almost
perpetually alone at Finchley. Of our domestic establishment there was
only one who did not desert us, and he was a negro!--one of that
despised, degraded race, who wear the colour on their features which too
often characterises the hearts of their fair and unfeeling oppressors. I
have found, during my journey through life, that the two male domestics
who were most attached to my interest and most faithful to my fortunes
were both negroes!

My mother now returned from Bristol, and I had the consolation of her
society. I divided my time betwixt reading, writing, and making a little
wardrobe for my expected darling. I little regretted the busy scenes of
life; I sighed not for public attention. I felt by this change of
situation as though a weighty load were taken from my heart, and solaced
my mind in the idea that the worst had happened which could befall us.
Gracious Heaven! How should I have shuddered, had I then contemplated
the dark perspective of my destiny!

Mr. Robinson went almost daily to London, and sometimes my brother
George, who was still a boy, accompanied him upon a little pony. One
day, after returning from one of their rides, my brother informed me
that he had been with Mr. Robinson to Marylebone, and that he had waited
and held Mr. Robinson's horse, while he made a morning visit. I had then
no acquaintance that resided at Marylebone. I questioned my brother as
to the place, and he persisted in his original story. "But," added he,
"if you say anything about it to Mr. Robinson, I never will tell you
where we go in future." I promised not to mention what he had said, and