‘And you,’ exclaimed Ellen, hardly knowing what she said, ’how came you, a woman, to be in this horrid place?’

‘That is a question,’ replied Elvira ’much easier for you to ask, than it will be for me to answer, but, as some of the events connected with the sad history of my presence here, may be found to be somewhat connected with your present mysterious situation, I will lose no time in making you acquainted with the story of my past life, that is, if you think you possess strength enough to listen to the recital, which as it is to me a painful theme, I shall make as brief as possible.’

A strange and unaccountable interest in the words of the dejected being who stood before her, having taken possession of the sympathizing mind of our heroine, she signified to Elvira, that she felt strong enough to listen to any thing which might serve to explain the horrible mystery connected with her sudden captivity, and the subsequent events attendant upon it.

As Ellen finished speaking, Elvira, commenced her narration as follows: 

’I was born in Lincoln, near fifty years ago.  My parents were poor, but respectable trades-people, who, had they been permitted to live, until I, their only child, had reached the age of womanhood, might have, by religious counsel and strict government checked, if not wholly obliterated the reckless propensities of my passionate temper and wild, wayward disposition.  But before my years had numbered ten, my parents both died within a few weeks of each other, leaving me to the care of a tyrannical old aunt, who I soon afterwards found, managed to hide, under an artful affection of religion and prudery, a base malignant and sensual character.  I was immediately sent by my aunt to the parish-school, where, being naturally tractable and apt to learn I soon acquired the rudiments of a good education, and besides, I learnt also to become an expert needle-woman.  No sooner did my aunt find that I was mistress of this latter accomplishment, than she took me at once from school, and compelled me to toil day and night at my needle, refusing me at the same time all necessary rest and recreation.

’Young and high-spirited as I then was, I found it impossible to bear such brutal treatment, and one day when I was about fourteen years of age, in a fit of anger and despair, I left the home of my cruel aunt, and found myself a wretched wanderer in the streets of London, without money, home, or friends.  Still I wandered on, not realizing the horror of my situation, till the shades of evening began to cover the city, and the harsh knawings of cruel hunger, began inexorably to crave their natural satisfaction.  Then it was that I felt myself compelled to look around for some place of shelter, but could find none, and would have returned again to my cruel aunt, but alas, all my efforts to find her habitation proved utterly fruitless, and having by this time reached the banks of the Thames,