* The introduction of Darnford as the deliverer of Maria, in an early stage of the history, is already stated (Chap.  III.) to have been an after-thought of the author.  This has probably caused the imperfectness of the manuscript in the above passage; though, at the same time, it must be acknowledged to be somewhat uncertain, whether Darnford is the stranger intended in this place.  It appears from Chap.  XVII, that an interference of a more decisive nature was designed to be attributed to him.  EDITOR. [Godwin’s note]

“‘Not by her husband?’ asked the attorney.

“‘No, sir, not by her husband.’  Mr. Venables advanced towards him—­But there was a decision in his attitude, that so well seconded that of his voice, * They left the house:  at the same time protesting, that any one that should dare to protect me, should be prosecuted with the utmost rigour.

     * Two and a half lines of asterisks appear here in the
     original [Publisher’s note].

“They were scarcely out of the house, when my landlady came up to me again, and begged my pardon, in a very different tone.  For, though Mr. Venables had bid her, at her peril, harbour me, he had not attended, I found, to her broad hints, to discharge the lodging.  I instantly promised to pay her, and make her a present to compensate for my abrupt departure, if she would procure me another lodging, at a sufficient distance; and she, in return, repeating Mr. Venables’ plausible tale, I raised her indignation, and excited her sympathy, by telling her briefly the truth.

“She expressed her commiseration with such honest warmth, that I felt soothed; for I have none of that fastidious sensitiveness, which a vulgar accent or gesture can alarm to the disregard of real kindness.  I was ever glad to perceive in others the humane feelings I delighted to exercise; and the recollection of some ridiculous characteristic circumstances, which have occurred in a moment of emotion, has convulsed me with laughter, though at the instant I should have thought it sacrilegious to have smiled.  Your improvement, my dearest girl, being ever present to me while I write, I note these feelings, because women, more accustomed to observe manners than actions, are too much alive to ridicule.  So much so, that their boasted sensibility is often stifled by false delicacy.  True sensibility, the sensibility which is the auxiliary of virtue, and the soul of genius, is in society so occupied with the feelings of others, as scarcely to regard its own sensations.  With what reverence have I looked up at my uncle, the dear parent of my mind! when I have seen the sense of his own sufferings, of mind and body, absorbed in a desire to comfort those, whose misfortunes were comparatively trivial.  He would have been ashamed of being as indulgent to himself, as he was to others.  ‘Genuine fortitude,’ he would assert, ’consisted in governing our own emotions, and making allowance for the weaknesses in our friends, that we would not tolerate in ourselves.’  But where is my fond regret leading me!