stranger." Another pause —"I wonder no one
ever suspected me before."

Here was a confession and a key to character.
The cold gray eye, the thin compressed lips,
which I had had time to observe, were true
indexes to the "lady's" inner heart:—selfish,
calculating, utterly devoid of conscience;
unable to conceive the existence of spontaneous
kindness; utterly indifferent to anything
except discovery; and almost indifferent to
that, because convinced that no serious
consequences could affect a lady of her rank and
influence.

"Madam," I replied, " as long as you dealt
with tradesmen accustomed to depend on
aristocratic customers, your rank and position,
and their large profits, protected you from
suspicion; but you have made a mistake in
descending from your vantage ground to make
a poor shopman your innocent accomplice—
a man who will be keenly alive to anything
that may injure his wife or children. His
terrors—but for my interposition—would have
ruined you utterly. Tell me, how many of
these things have you put afloat?"

She seemed a little taken aback by this
speech; but was wonderfully firm. She passed
her white jewelled hand over her eyes, seemed
calculating, and then whispered, with a
confiding look of innocent helplessness, admirably
assumed—

"About as many as amount to twelve
hundred pounds."

"And what means have you for meeting
them?"

At this question, so plainly put, her face
flushed. She half rose from her chair, and
exclaimed, in the true tone of aristocratic
hauteur—"Really, sir, I do not know what
right you have to ask me that question."

I laughed a little, though not very loud. It
was rude, I own; but who could have helped
it? I replied, speaking low; but slowly and
distinctly:—"You forget. I did not send for
you: you came to me. You have forged bills to
the amount of twelve hundred pounds. Yours
is not the case of a ruined merchant, or an
ignorant over-tempted clerk. In your case a
jury" (she shuddered at that word) "would
find no extenuating circumstances; and if you
should ever fall into the hands of justice,
you will be convicted, degraded, clothed in a
prison dress, and transported for life. I do
not want to speak harshly; but I insist that
you find means to take up the bill which
Mr. Axminsler has so unwittingly endorsed!"

The Honourable Miss Snape's grand manner
melted away. She wept. She seized and
pressed my hand. She cast up her eyes, full
of tears, and went through the part of a
repentant victim with great fervour. She.
would do anything; anything in the world
to save the poor man. Indeed, she had
intended to appropriate part of the two
hundred pound bill to that purpose.

She forgot her first statement, that she
wanted the money to go out of town.
Without interrupting, I let her go on and
degrade herself by a simulated passion of
repentance, regret, and thankfulness to me,
under which she hid her fear and her mortification
at being detected. I at length put an
end to a scene of admirable acting, by
recommending her to go abroad immediately,
to place herself out of reach of any sudden
discovery; and then lay her case fully before
her friends, who would, no doubt, feel bound
to come forward with the full amount of the
forged bills. "But," she exclaimed, with an
entreating air, "I have no money; I cannot go
without money!" To that observation I did
not respond; although I am sure she expected
that I should, check-book in hand, offer her a
loan.

I do not say so without reason; for, the
very next week, this honourable young lady
came again; and, with sublime assurance
and a number of very charming, winning
speeches (which might have had their effect
upon a younger man), asked me to lend her
one hundred pounds, in order that she might
take the advice I had so obligingly given her,
and retire into private life for a certain time
in the country.

I do meet with a great many impudent
people in the course of my calling—I am not
very deficient in assurance myself—but this
actually took away my breath.

"Really, madam," I answered, "you pay a
very ill compliment to my gray hairs; and
would fain make me a very ill return for the
service I have done you, when you ask me
to lend a hundred pounds to a young lady
who owns to having forged to the extent
of one thousand two hundred pounds, and to
owing eight hundred pounds besides. I wished
to save a personage of your years and position
from a disgraceful career; but I am too good
a trustee for my children to lend money to
anybody in such a dangerous position as
yourself."

"Oh!" she answered, quite unabashed,
without a trace of the fearful, tender pleading
of the previous week's interview—quite as
if I had been an accomplice, "I can give you
excellent security."

"That alters the case; I can lend any amount
on good security."

"Well, sir, I can get the acceptances of three
friends of ample means."

"Do you mean to tell me, Miss Snape, that
you will write down the names of three
parties who will accept a bill for one hundred
pounds for you!"

Yes, she could, and did actually write down
the names of three distinguished men. Now
I knew for certain that not one of those
noblemen would have put his name to a bill
on any account whatever for his dearest
friend; but, in her unabashed self-confidence.
she thought of passing another forgery on
me. I closed the conference by saying, "I
cannot assist you;" and she retired with
the air of an injured person. In the course