142 The Love of God.
up the intereft that had lured her young mafter

fo unaccountably from his mifery.

“Well, to be fure, Sir, what you fay’s quite
right, and we can make the poor thing comfortable
for to-night, and then you can do as you pleafe to-
morrow. Shall I take him with me, Sir, and
make him clean, while you dine? I can borrow
fome tidy clothes from the bailiff’s wife, I dare
fay ; and after he’s made refpectable, fyou can fee
him again, Sir, if you think proper.”

This propofition was more grateful to Theo-
dore’s mind than he cared to acknowledge to him-
felf. Indeed he had no clear ideas of his feelings
about the little accident that had interrupted the
difmal courfe of his life; and he ftudiouflyavoided
queftioning himfelf too clofely. Only there came
acrofs him, every now and then, a fenfation that
there was fome fpecial providence about it all, and
that there was fome myfterious conneétion be-
tween this adventure and the words of the appa-
ritions who had fpoken to him in the morning.

But “let be, let us fee what will happen,” was
the ruling feeling, and as he felt lefs miferable than
ufual, he did not with to difturb the pleafing dream
by enquiries, why?

After his folitary dinner, as he was feated alone
in his arm chair, he was relapfing faft into his
ufual unhappy ftate of mind, for this was at all
times the moft trying part of the day to him,
when a knock at the door aroufed him.

Ah, it was the good old houfekeeper again! She