Adventure in a Russian Convent: By Frances
Brown: 225

Amusements of the Month: 51, 109, 164, 219, 276,
333

Answers to Correspondents: 56, 112, 168, 224,
280, 336

Autumn Flowers: 209

Béranger and his Poetry: By Amelia B. Edwards:

119

Christmas Letter, The: By Silverpen : 281
Clock-work; or, More Nice than Wise: By Edith
Woodley: 84

Cuckoo, The (Meyer's British Birds): 46

Day in the New Forest: By the Editor: 192
Dependence; or, Fifty Years of Trials: 40, 96, 138

Emigrants, The: By Elizabeth O'Hara : 23
English Stage, The ; as it was, and ought to be: 81

Fête Day in Paris, A: 290

Free Libraries and Museums for the People: By
the Editor: 325

Furs for the Ladies; and where they come from: 9

GARDENING for July, 55; August, 112; Septem-
ber, 167; October, 223; November, 279; De-
cember, 335

Glimpse, A, of the Romans: By Frances Brown:

CHAP. IV.

Safe in the street, and possessor of the manuscript, the ballad-girl hurried onwards towards Paternoster Row. She was aware of Alice Stow's love for Ruthven, and of her exceeding grief at his disappearance; and therefore her mission thither was for two purposes-to deposit the precious manuscript with the one that would be most tender of its safety, and to stay tears that were being uselessly shed. True, she would give no exact information as to where Ruthven lay so sorely ill, as might be presumed to be from Mr. Tickle's inquiries; but he appeared to be at least yet alive, and this would afford some degree of consolation. The ballad-girl further suspected that he lay concealed somewhere in Grinder's house; and the idea of the hidden room at its rear occurring to her, she determined to seek Mr. Chirpster on the morrow, and enlist his sympathetic services, which she knew an amount sufficient to purchase a dinner at the next ordinary would easily do.

Tapping at the kitchen-door already spoken of, it was opened by Mistress Beck, who fancying for the first moment that the girl had come to sing, and thus earn a supper, or otherwise on some little errand for Bobkin, spoke and looked in a degree crossly, for one whose nature was so genuine; but as soon as Jill had whispered Ruthven's name, and asked with much humility to speak to Alice, the shadow on her face passed away, and she bid the girl step in.

"Thou mayn't go upstairs just this instant," she said in an under-tone, "for the old man's with her, persuading her to have a doctor, though if she do there'll be fuss enough when the bill comes in. For though Mr. Gilpill is one of the very nicest little gentlemen as ever drew a tooth or gave a powder, and the dear child is right ill, because of taking on about Ruthven, thou, my lass, be much the likeliest doctor."

In a few minutes old Cratch's shoes could be heard creaking down the staircase; in another he made his appearance. In the brief interval, Mistress Beck took the precaution to hide the ballad-girl in the neighbouring pantry, as her presence might have raised divers suspicions in

the old man's mind. So considering the coast clear, he spoke unreservedly.

"The poor child looks ill, Beck-very. A little nervous, and out of sorts; and I've been saying I'll send for old Tobias-though his charges-," and here Cratch made an immense face" are tremendous ! But the child won't hear of it; so." He made a pause here; and in the balance thus sought between parsimony and duty, Alice's negative prevailed.

"Oh! she doesn't want Gilpill nor his physic," said Beck; "I know something that 'll bring her round; and if I add to it a little gruel, and tender nursing, she 'll soon be well.'

"I think so," smiled old Cratch at this nonprospect of a summons for Gilpill; " but I should say that the gruel should be plain-no butter-no wine-no nutmeg; such things causeth fever."

"Perhaps so," replied Beck, drily; "though I know thou likest them added to thy own gruel, Mr. Cratch. But leave me to concoct my kitchen physic in the way Alice loves. Thou hast supped, and Dick the apprentice hath carried thy pipe into the parlour."

Cratch obeyed this broad hint to retire, though a little sullenly, muttering to himself as he shut the parlour door, "that Beck had not only grown saucy and extravagant, but was encouraged by Alice."

As soon as he had thus disappeared, the housekeeper, accompanied by Jill, passed up a back staircase to Alice's chamber. It was charmingly decked, according to the taste of the period, with oval mirrors, small oil paintings, grotesque china, and shells; but the richest treasure it possessed-its girlish mistresslooked really ill. She sat crouching to the fire in an easy chair-a perfect picture, in her short Flanders' lace crowning her radiant hair; but, overgown of scarlet, and toy-like cap of costly apathetic from grief, she neither turned nor spoke as Beck came in. But as soon as that good soul had knelt beside her, had bent the young girl's head tenderly towards her motherly heart-had momentarily hushed her there-had whispered her lover's name-had said the kindly ballad-girl, of whose voice and noble change of

B

fortune there was so much talk, was come, and at that moment in the room with her, to give her tidings of Ruthven - this apathy of grief and long suspense was changed into the greatest excitement. Pushing Beck aside, she rose, as if to meet the ballad-girl, who still lingered by the door, as though diffident of venturing further.

Come here come closer-come, sit at my feet, and tell me about Mr. Ruthven." She tottered as she spoke, for she was debilitated and ill; at which Beck, with the tenderness of a nurse, wound her arms about her, and placed her back again in her chair.

Jill, thus spoken to, came forward, but not nearer than the counter-side of the little ebony table which stood near the sick girl's chair.

"I would rather stand here, madam," she said; and then, in a low voice, she proceeded to tell what little had been discovered with respect to Ruthven, and what earnest friends were anxious for his fate.

But interpreting this to be worse than what was said thinking that these scanty tidings of his illness were but to prepare her for the reality of his death, Alice's grief became intensified into wild despair; and her sobs and exclamations, as she wrung her hands and struggled against the restraining grasp of excellent-hearted Beck, must have been heard by the passers-by in the Row:

"Thou mustn't-thou mustn't take on thus, dear heart," soothed Beck; "Jill hath told thee the worst, and thou wilt soon have better tidings."

gently asked the ballad-girl to come and sit on a stool at her feet.

I would rather not, madam," replied Jill, in a voice expressive of deep humility. "There is à difference between us which I, rather than thou canst, comprehend. But I will come near thee for a minute, for I have that to give thee which thou wilt prize." So saying, she brought forth the Play from beneath the little cloak she wore, saying, as she did so, how she had preserved it.

"I know not how I shall reward thee, Jill," said Alice, again bursting into tears; but this time they rained gently down.

By kind thoughts of me, madam. I have heard much from Johnny Bobkin of thee, and I covet thy good opinion.'

39

"Thou shalt have it, child, and my regard too, but not unless thou sittest here at my feet. But stay a minute, let me look at what thou hast brought, and at his hand writing; and tell me again all thou knowest about it, for I knew that Mr. Ruthven had writ a play, but he was too modest to say much touching it."

Well, he read it to thy uncle, as I told thee at the time," said Beck," and a pretty groaning he made over it, as he always doth when his purse is in the way. But just on the other hand, Mr. Tobias, who was a listener, said it had the real smack of Congreve in it, with something that went beyond; it was fit, he said, for woman's ears-that's much for him to say; for thou knowest how modest that little man of pills and potions would have womankind."

"Thou cannot go, child," replied Beck, firmly; "thou art far too ill."

Thus finding tears and entreaties unavailing, Alice, like an impatient child, renewed her sobs. "Hush-hush!" said Beck. "How foolish thou art. A few more cries, and thy old uncle will find all out; and pretty war, as thou knowest, there'll be between him and master Tendril. Hush! if thou lovest thy lover, be still." These words were in a degree effectual; and presently more so, when Cratch's thin voice was heard calling out from the bottom of the staircase What's the matter, Beck-is my niece worse? Shall I come up and assist? or-oror-shall I-shall 1-send for Gilpill?" Here Cratch audibly groaned.

"No! no! master," cried Beck, for Cratch's shoes began to creak up the staircase, "the child hath only got a trying spasm, which the nice medicine I'm giving her will cure. So I can't have a man here thou must go back to thy parlour, Mr. Cratch, and shut the door." Thus admonished, the shoes creaked down again.

For some minutes Alice sat with her face buried in her hands; then looking up, she

leaves.

"Thou must take care of it, madam," said Jill," there are those hungry for its possession, as thou must understand...." and she proceeded to tell her all she knew a little softening her uncle's undoubted share-in the plots against it.

But Alice seemed to take intuitively this last point at its full account, though she said but little. She then assured the ballad-girl that she would take the greatest care of the Play, and keep it locked up, saving whilst she read it. She then recurred to the subject of finding where Mr. Ruthven lay, at the mercy of his enemies.

Amongst other plans suggested, was that of asking Mr. Gilpill's advice, not only for the reason that he had known Alice from her babyhood, but by his possible acquaintance with one or more of the apothecaries practising in the classic region of Grub-street. This last was a bright idea; for, as Jill said, the doctor had a small boy, who, though vastly given to put his finger in the syrup-jar, and to getting his ear pinched for the sin, was yet well known for his acuteness in finding out other persons' secrets.

Such being the case, Beck promised to let Alice go in her chair to Hounds ditch on the following evening, provided she were better.

Then when Jill had again said she would, if possible, enlist the services of Mr. Chirpster, she prepared to take leave, bearing with her a note of a few lines from Alice for Matthew Tendrill, and which she would deliver on her way to Carestini's in the morning.

"Thou must come again to me, dear child," said Alice, as she bent her face upon the shoulder of the ballad-girl," thou and I'must, from this time forth, be certain friends. Now, as thou wilt not take money for thy beautiful service in saving Mr. Ruthven's Piay, say what I may give thee as a token of my own remembrance-as a sign of the faith between us."

"A ribbon that thou last wore, madam, I should like-nothing greater."

"Nay, something a little worthier. Beck, give me my godfather's last gift." The kindly housekeeper obeyed, and brought a rich inlaid box, well filled with costly jewellery. From this Alice selected a little ring, in which was set her hair, and gave it to the girl.

"I thank thee, madam; I will ever keep it though I will put off its first wearing till the night I sing in Mr. Gay's opera, which it is said I am to do."

"Art thou? then I will indeed be there. Now get tidings of Mr. Ruthven, if thou cans't, for thou knowest my heavy heart; and come to me again, I pray thee."

The ballad-girl, kneeling on the footstool, promised so to do. Then she and Alice parted. In the passage beside the kitchen-door, Jill found good Johnny Bobkin waiting to guard her home, as he had rightly imagined she would bring the Play hither.

On the morrow, on her way to Carestini's, the ballad-girl sought the goldsmith's shop. She found him in it, and engaged talking to the same homely-looking man she had observed on the settle of the "Swan" the night she sang there to Mr. Francis. Again he keenly observed her; for her face, in its child-like simplicity, was a most striking one.

He knew that Cratch was not nice as to his methods of making money, and perceived at a glance that he had been Ogilvy's tool from the first, and that Tickle had been sought for in the Fleet as a man venal enough to be bribed, and sufficiently lettered to become a daily spy upon Ruthven, under the guise of rendering assistance, in the translation of a classic author. The aim was to entrap him into such an expression of political opinion, as might make him amenable to the atrocious laws against libel then existing; failing this, to forge such evidence of a like crime as might lead to the same result. The purpose to be gained, was to satiate Ogilvy's hate.

"Thou art a brave, bright lass, though a chick younger than my Alice," said Tendril. when the girl had told him all she knew; "and deservest the divine voice the town saith thou hast. Now see this Chirpster, if Mistress Mead permit, and thou canst with safety, and in the meanwhile I will seek Cramp, the magistrates at Westminster's constable, whom I know, and hear what he would suggest; and towards evening I will walk to Houndsditch, and see the worthiest little man it holds, and my darling god-daughter in the bargain."

So saying, the goldsmith gave the girl a guinea, and let her go.

"That child hath a sweet face," said the great artist, thoughtfully, when the ballad-girl was gone; "though there is so much that is mournful in it, as if of fate past and to come.

And Hogarth looked at his left-hand thumbnail, on which he had been sketching, as was his habit when anything striking or ludicrous came before his view.

"Hast thou her there already?" asked the goldsmith, looking too. "Why thou hast, indeed! Well, when thou hast time, thou canst make a picture for me; a composition piece, if thou wilt. I need one for the parlour-chimney of the old Essex-house I shall rest in by-andbye."

"Now go on, my wench, and tell me something of this story," he kindly said. "Alice saith thou canst relate a marvellous history. And do not mind this gentleman; he is a goodly neighbour of mine Mr. Hogarth, the painter."

In such illustrious company, therefore, did Jill tell the story that we know. If some points of it were obscure to Tendril, others were clear.

favourably received, make a more prominent début before the town, as Polly Peacham in the "Beggar's Opera." This character had already been matchlessly sustained by the beautiful Miss Fenton; but there was room for other Pollys, though none might so excel.

With Mistress Mead's permission-though it was reluctantly given, for she, as well as others, began to perceive that there was great possible danger to the girl's life, in her being thus so prominently opposed to the base designs in action against Ruthven-Jill, under the care of an old watchman, set out that same afternoon in search of Mr. Chirpster. By inquiries made by this attendant, it was found he had been for some time dismissed by Grinder; and he was eventually traced to a mean house in the Old Bailey. Here he had hired a garret, befitting