It was with great difficulty that I, who now almost supported the house by loans from my uncle, could prevail on the _master_ of it, to allow her a room to die in.

I watched her sick bed for some months, and then closed her eyes, gentle spirit! for ever.

She was pretty, with very engaging manners; yet had never an opportunity to marry, excepting to a very old man.

She had abilities sufficient to have shone in any profession, had there been any professions for women, though she shrunk at the name of milliner or mantua-maker as degrading to a gentlewoman.
I would not term this feeling false pride to any one but you, my child, whom I fondly hope to see (yes; I will indulge the hope for a moment!) possessed of that energy of character which gives dignity to any station; and with that clear, firm spirit that will enable you to choose a situation for yourself, or submit to be classed in the lowest, if it be the only one in which you can be the mistress of your own actions.
"Soon after the death of my sister, an incident occurred, to prove to me that the heart of a libertine is dead to natural affection; and to convince me, that the being who has appeared all tenderness, to gratify a selfish passion, is as regardless of the innocent fruit of it, as of the object, when the fit is over.

I had casually observed an old, meanlooking woman, who called on my husband every two or three months to receive some money.