As soon as the door was closed, Sir James took me by the hand, and led me up, saying, “Allow me to introduce your old friend as Lady O’Connor.”

“My dear Tom,” said she, taking me by the hand, “I am and ever shall be Mrs. St. Felix with you.  Come, now, and sit down.  You will again have to take charge of me, for I am to return to Greenwich, and leave it in a respectable manner.  I daresay they have already reported that I have run away from my creditors.  Sir James thinks I must go back as if nothing had happened, give out that I had some property left me by a relation, and then settle everything, and sell the goodwill of my shop.  It certainly will be better than to give grounds for the surmises and reports which may take place at my sudden disappearance—­not that I am very likely to fall in with my old acquaintances at Greenwich.”

“Don’t you think so, Tom?—­for Tom I must call you, in earnest of our future friendship,” said Sir James.

“I do think it will be the best plan, sir.”

“Well, then, you must convey her ladyship to Greenwich again this evening, and to-morrow the report must be spread, and the next day you will be able to re-escort her here.  I hope you feel the compliment that I pay you in trusting you with my new-found treasure.  Now let us sit down to dinner.  Pray don’t look at your dress, Tom; at all events, it’s quite as respectable as her ladyship’s.”

After dinner a chaise was ordered, and Lady O’Connor and I returned to Greenwich, arriving there after dark.  “We walked down to her house.  I then left her and hastened to my mother’s.

“Well, mother,” said I, after the first salutations were over, “have you heard the news about Mrs. St. Felix?”

“No, what has she done now?”

“Oh, she has done nothing, but a relation in Ireland has left her a lot of money, and she is going over there immediately.  Whether she will come back again nobody knows.”

“Well, we can do without her,” replied my mother, with pique.  “I’m very glad that she’s going, for I have always protested at Virginia’s being so intimate with her—­a tobacco shop is not a place for a young lady.”

“Mother,” replied Virginia, “when we lived in Fisher’s Alley Mrs. St. Felix was above us in situation.”

“I have desired you very often, Virginia, not to refer to Fisher’s Alley; you know I do not like it—­the very best families have had their reverses.”

“I cannot help thinking that such has been the case with Mrs. St. Felix,” replied Virginia.

“If you please, Miss Saunders, we’ll drop the subject,” replied my mother, haughtily.