"Don't you think Jos will--"

"Upon my word, my dear, I don't know. He may, or may not. I'm not his

master. I only know he is a very foolish vain fellow, and put my dear

little girl into a very painful and awkward position last night. My

dearest diddle-diddle-darling!" He was off laughing again, and he did

it so drolly that Emmy laughed too.

All that day Jos never came. But Amelia had no fear about this; for

the little schemer had actually sent away the page, Mr. Sambo's

aide-de-camp, to Mr. Joseph's lodgings, to ask for some book he had

promised, and how he was; and the reply through Jos's man, Mr. Brush,

was, that his master was ill in bed, and had just had the doctor with

him. He must come to-morrow, she thought, but she never had the

courage to speak a word on the subject to Rebecca; nor did that young

woman herself allude to it in any way during the whole evening after

the night at Vauxhall.

The next day, however, as the two young ladies sate on the sofa,

pretending to work, or to write letters, or to read novels, Sambo came

into the room with his usual engaging grin, with a packet under his

arm, and a note on a tray. "Note from Mr. Jos, Miss," says Sambo.

How Amelia trembled as she opened it!

So it ran: Dear Amelia,--I send you the "Orphan of the Forest." I was too ill to

come yesterday. I leave town to-day for Cheltenham. Pray excuse me,

if you can, to the amiable Miss Sharp, for my conduct at Vauxhall, and

entreat her to pardon and forget every word I may have uttered when

excited by that fatal supper. As soon as I have recovered, for my

health is very much shaken, I shall go to Scotland for some months, and

am Truly yours, Jos Sedley It was the death-warrant. All was over. Amelia did not dare to look

at Rebecca's pale face and burning eyes, but she dropt the letter into

her friend's lap; and got up, and went upstairs to her room, and cried

her little heart out.

Blenkinsop, the housekeeper, there sought her presently with

consolation, on whose shoulder Amelia wept confidentially, and relieved

herself a good deal. "Don't take on, Miss. I didn't like to tell you.

But none of us in the house have liked her except at fust. I sor her

with my own eyes reading your Ma's letters. Pinner says she's always

about your trinket-box and drawers, and everybody's drawers, and she's

sure she's put your white ribbing into her box."

"I gave it her, I gave it her," Amelia said.

But this did not alter Mrs. Blenkinsop's opinion of Miss Sharp. "I

don't trust them governesses, Pinner," she remarked to the maid. "They

give themselves the hairs and hupstarts of ladies, and their wages is

no better than you nor me."




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