The head-mistress was a Catholic, and though she must have been sixty, she looked keen, witty, and as if she knew the ways of the world.  She had received an introduction from Lady Harrington, and so welcomed the young lady in the most cordial manner.  She had about fifteen young boarders of thirteen or fourteen years of age.  When she presented Sophie to them as a new companion, they crowded round her and covered her with caresses.  Five or six were perfect angels of beauty, and two or three were hideously ugly; and such extremes are more common in England than anywhere else.  My daughter was the smallest of them all, but as far as beauty went she had nothing to fear by comparison, and her talents placed her on a par with the eldest, while she responded to their caresses with that ease which later in life is only acquired with great difficulty.

We went over the house, and all the girls followed us, and those who could speak French or Italian spoke to me, saying how much they would love my daughter, while those who could not speak sufficiently well held off as if ashamed of their ignorance.  We saw the bedrooms, the dining-room, the drawing-room, the harps and the pianos—­in fact, everything, and I decided that Sophie could not be better placid.  We went into the head-mistress’s private room, and Madame Cornelis paid her a hundred guineas in advance, and obtained a receipt.  We then agreed that Sophie should be received as a boarder as soon as she liked to come, that she was to bring her bed with her, and all the necessary linen.  Madame Cornelis made the final arrangements on the ensuing Sunday.

Next day the alderman told me that Count Schwerin was a prisoner, and wanted to speak to me.  I declined at first, but as the alderman’s messenger told me, through Jarbe, that the poor devil had not a farthing in his pocket, I was moved with compassion.  As he was charged with uttering forged notes he had been taken to Newgate, and was in danger of being hanged.

I followed the magistrate’s messenger, and cannot say how the woeful aspect, the tears and supplications for mercy of the poor wretch, moved my heart.  He swore that Castelbajac had given him the notes, but he added that he knew where they came from originally, and would tell me if I would release him.

A little bitterness still remained in my breast, so I told him that if he knew who forged the notes he could certainly escape the gallows, but that I should keep him prisoner till I got my money back.  At this threat his tears and supplications began over again and with renewed force, and telling me that he was in utter poverty he emptied his pockets one after the other to shew me that he had no money, and at last offered me the bloodstained badge of his uncle.  I was delighted to be able to relieve him without any appearance of weakness, and accepted the bauble as a pledge, telling him that he should have it back on payment of forty pounds.