Cat tottered down the narrow stairs, and through the kitchen, and to the door; which she caught hold of, and paused awhile, and looked into Mrs.Score's face, as for one more chance.

"Get out, you nasty trull!" said that lady, sternly, with arms akimbo; and poor Catherine, with a most piteous scream and outgush of tears, let go of the door-post and staggered away into the road.
***** "Why, no--yes--no--it is poor Catherine Hall, as I live!" said somebody, starting up, shoving aside Mrs.Score very rudely, and running into the road, wig off and pipe in hand.

It was honest Doctor Dobbs; and the result of his interview with Mrs.Cat was, that he gave up for ever smoking his pipe at the "Bugle;" and that she lay sick of a fever for some weeks in his house.
***** Over this part of Mrs.Cat's history we shall be as brief as possible; for, to tell the truth, nothing immoral occurred during her whole stay at the good Doctor's house; and we are not going to insult the reader by offering him silly pictures of piety, cheerfulness, good sense, and simplicity; which are milk-and-water virtues after all, and have no relish with them like a good strong vice, highly peppered.

Well, to be short: Doctor Dobbs, though a profound theologian, was a very simple gentleman; and before Mrs.Cat had been a month in the house, he had learned to look upon her as one of the most injured and repentant characters in the world; and had, with Mrs.Dobbs, resolved many plans for the future welfare of the young Magdalen.

"She was but sixteen, my love, recollect," said the Doctor; "she was carried off, not by her own wish either.