Hitherto, the city had escaped.  The destroyer had not passed Ludgate or Newgate, but environed the walls like a besieging enemy.  A few days, however, before the opening of this history, fine weather having commenced, the horrible disease began to grow more rife, and laughing all precautions and impediments to scorn, broke out in the very heart of the stronghold—­namely, in Bearbinder-lane, near Stock’s Market, where nine persons died.

At a season so awful, it may be imagined how an impressive address, like that delivered by the grocer, would be received by those who saw in the pestilence, not merely an overwhelming scourge from which few could escape, but a direct manifestation of the Divine displeasure.  Not a word was said.  Blaize Shotterel, the porter, and old Josyna, his mother, together with Patience, the other woman-servant, betook themselves silently, and with troubled countenances, to the kitchen.  Leonard Holt, the apprentice, lingered for a moment to catch a glance from the soft blue eyes of Amabel, the grocer’s eldest daughter (for even the plague was a secondary consideration with him when she was present), and failing in the attempt, he heaved a deep sigh, which was luckily laid to the account of the discourse he had just listened to by his sharp-sighted master, and proceeded to the shop, where he busied himself in arranging matters for the night.

Having just completed his twenty-first year, and his apprenticeship being within a few months of its expiration, Leonard Holt began to think of returning to his native town of Manchester, where he intended to settle, and where he had once fondly hoped the fair Amabel would accompany him, in the character of his bride.  Not that he had ever ventured to declare his passion, nor that he had received sufficient encouragement to make it matter of certainty that if he did so declare himself, he should be accepted; but being both “proper and tall,” and having tolerable confidence in his good looks, he had made himself, up to a short time prior to his introduction to the reader, quite easy on the point.

His present misgivings were occasioned by Amabel’s altered manner towards him, and by a rival who, he had reason to fear, had completely superseded him in her good graces.  Brought up together from an early age, the grocer’s daughter and the young apprentice had at first regarded each other as brother and sister.  By degrees, the feeling changed; Amabel became more reserved, and held little intercourse with Leonard, who, busied with his own concerns, thought little about her.  But, as he grew towards manhood, he could not remain insensible to her extraordinary beauty—­for extraordinary it was, and such as to attract admiration wherever she went, so that the “Grocer’s Daughter” became the toast among the ruffling gallants of the town, many of whom sought to obtain speech with her.  Her parents, however, were far too careful to permit any such approach.  Amabel’s stature was lofty;