From this moment the change previously noticed took place in Amabel’s demeanour towards Leonard.  She seemed scarcely able to endure his presence, and sedulously avoided his regards.  From being habitually gay and cheerful, she became pensive and reserved.  Her mother more than once caught her in tears; and it was evident, from many other signs, that Wyvil completely engrossed her thoughts.  Fully aware of this, Mrs. Bloundel said nothing of it to her husband, because the subject was painful to him; and not supposing the passion deeply rooted, she hoped it would speedily wear away.  But she was mistaken—­the flame was kept alive in Amabel’s breast in a manner of which she was totally ignorant.  Wyvil found means to deceive the vigilance of the grocer and his wife, but he could not deceive the vigilance of a jealous lover.  Leonard discovered that his mistress had received a letter.  He would not betray her, but he determined to watch her narrowly.

Accordingly, when she went forth one morning in company with her younger sister (a little girl of some five years old), he made an excuse to follow them, and, keeping within sight, perceived them enter Saint Paul’s Cathedral, the mid aisle of which was then converted into a public walk, and generally thronged with town gallants, bullies, bona-robas, cut-purses, and rogues of every description.  In short, it was the haunt of the worst of characters of the metropolis.  When, therefore, Amabel entered this structure, Leonard felt certain it was to meet her lover.  Rushing forward, he saw her take her course through the crowd, and attract general attention from her loveliness—­but he nowhere discerned Maurice Wyvil.

Suddenly, however, she struck off to the right, and halted near one of the pillars, and the apprentice, advancing, detected his rival behind it.  He was whispering a few words in her ear, unperceived by her sister.  Maddened by the sight, Leonard hurried towards them, but before he could reach the spot Wyvil was gone, and Amabel, though greatly confused, looked at the same time so indignant, that he almost regretted his precipitation.

“You will, of course, make known to my father what you have just seen?” she said in a low tone.

“If you will promise not to meet that gallant again without my knowledge, I will not,” replied Leonard.

After a moment’s reflection, Amabel gave the required promise, and they returned to Wood-street together.  Satisfied she would not break her word, the apprentice became more easy, and as a week elapsed, and nothing was said to him on the subject, he persuaded himself she would not attempt to meet her lover again.

Things were in this state at the opening of our tale, but upon the night in question, Leonard fancied he discerned some agitation in Amabel’s manner towards him, and in consequence of this notion, he sought to meet her gaze, as before related, after prayers.  While trying to distract his thoughts by arranging sundry firkins of butter, and putting other things in order, he heard a light footstep behind him, and turning at the sound, beheld Amabel.