to be her interest, she plainly threatens to leave
off at a week's notice. A difficult girl to deal
with: she has found out her own value to me
already. One comfort is, I have the cooking of
the accounts; and my fair relative shall not fill
her pockets too suddenly, if I can help it.

My exertions in training Miss Vanstone for
the coming experiment, have been varied by the
writing of two anonymous letters, in that young
lady's interests. Finding her too fidgety about
arranging matters with her friends to pay proper
attention to my instructions, I wrote anonymously
to the lawyer who is conducting the inquiry
after her; recommending him in a friendly way
to give it up. The letter was enclosed to a friend
of mine in London, with instructions to post it
at Charing-cross. A week later, I sent a second
letter, through the same channel, requesting the
lawyer to inform me, in writing, whether he and
his clients had or had not decided on taking my
advice. I directed him, with jocose reference
to the collision of interests between us, to
address his letter:—"Tit for Tat, Post Office, West
Strand."

In a few days the answer arrived—privately
forwarded, of course, to Post-office, Whitby, by
arrangement with my friend in London.

The lawyer's reply was short and surly: "Sir—
If my advice had been followed, you and your
anonymous letter would both be treated with the
contempt which they deserve. But the wishes of Miss
Magdalen Vanstone's eldest sister have claims on
my consideration which I cannot dispute; and at
her entreaty I inform you that all further proceedings
on my part are withdrawn—on the express
understanding that this concession is to open
facilities for written communication, at least,
between the two sisters. A letter from the elder
Miss Vanstone is enclosed in this. If I don't
hear, in a week's time, that it has been received,
I shall place the matter once more in the hands
of the police.—WILLIAM PENDRIL." A sour
man, this William Pendril. I can only say of
him, what an eminent nobleman once said of his
sulky servant—"I wouldn't have such a temper
as that fellow has got, for any earthly consideration
that could be offered me!"

As a matter of course, I looked into the letter
which the lawyer enclosed, before delivering it.
Miss Vanstone, the elder, described herself as
distracted at not hearing from her sister; as
suited with a governess's situation in a private
family; as going into the situation in a week's
time; and as longing for a letter to comfort her,
before she faced the trial of undertaking her new
duties. After closing the envelope again, I
accompanied the delivery of the letter to Miss
Vanstone, the younger, by a word of caution.
"Are you more sure of your own courage now," I
said, "than you were when I met you?" She was
ready with her answer. "Captain Wragge, when
you met me on the Walls of York, I had not
gone too far to go back. I have gone too far now."

If she really feels this—and I think she does—
her corresponding with her sister can do no harm
She wrote at great length the same day; cried
profusely over her own epistolatory composition;
and was remarkably ill-tempered and snappish
towards me, when we met in the evening.
She wants experience, poor girl—she sadly wants
experience of the world. How consoling to
know that I am just the man to give it to her!

II.

[Chronicle for November.]

We are established at Derby. The Entertainment
is written; and the rehearsals are in steady
progress. All difficulties are provided for, but
the one eternal difficulty of money. Miss Vanstone's
resources stretch easily enough to the
limits of our personal wants; including pianoforte
hire for practice, and the purchase and
making of the necessary dresses. But the
expenses of starting the Entertainment are
beyond the reach of any means we posess.
A theatrical friend of mine here, whom I had
hoped to interest in our undertaking, proves
unhappily to be at a crisis in his career. The
field of human sympathy, out of which I might
have raised the needful pecuinary crop, is closed
to me from want of time to cultivate it. I see
no other resource left—if we are to be ready by
Christmas—than to try one of the local music-
sellers in this town, who is said to be a speculating
man. A private rehearsal at these lodgings,
and a bargain which will fill the pockets of a
grasping stranger—such are the sacrifices which
dire necessity imposes on me at starting. Well!
there is only one consolation. I'll cheat the
music-seller.

III.

[Chronicle for December. First Fortnight.]

The music-seller extorts my unwilling respect.
He is one of the very few human beings I have
met with in the course of my life who is not to
be cheated. He has taken a masterly advantage
of our helplessness; and has imposed terms on
us, for performances at Derby and Nottingham,
with such a business-like disregard of all
interests but his own, that—fond as I am of
putting things down in black and white—I really
cannot prevail upon myself to record the bargain. It
is needless to say, I have yielded with my best
grace; sharing with my fair relative the wretched
pecuniary prospects offered to us. Our turn
will come. In the mean time, I cordially regret
not having known the local music-seller in early
life.

Personally speaking, I have no cause to
complain of Miss Vanstone. We have arranged that
she shall regularly forward her address (at the
post-office) to her friends, as we move about
from place to place. Besides communicating in
this way with her sister, she also reports herself
to a certain Mr. Clare, residing in Somersetshire,
who is to forward all letters exchanged between
herself and his son. Careful inquiry has
informed me that this latter individual is now in
China. Having suspected, from the first, that
there was a gentleman in the background, it
is highly satsifactory to know that he recedes