“Shortly after my mother had established herself at Chelsea, on a summer’s evening, as I was sitting at the window, I heard a deep sigh, or rather groan of anguish, which suddenly attracted my attention. The night was approaching rapidly, and I looked towards the gate before the house, where I observed a woman, evidently labouring under excessive affliction. I instantly descended and approached her. She, bursting into tears, asked whether I did not know her. Her dress was torn and filthy; she was almost naked, and an old bonnet, which nearly hid her face, so completely disfigured her features, that I had not the smallest idea of the person who was then almost sinking before me. I gave her a small sum of money, and inquired the cause of her apparent agony. She took my hand, and pressed it to her lips. ‘Sweet girl,’ said she, ‘you are still the angel I ever knew you!’ I was astonished. She raised her bonnet; her fine dark eyes met mine. It was Mrs. Lorrington. I led her into the house; my mother was not at home. I took her to my chamber, and, with the assistance of a lady, who was our French teacher, I clothed and comforted her. She refused to say how she came to be in so deplorable a situation, and took her leave. It was in vain that I entreated—that I conjured her to let me know where I might send to her. She refused to give me her address, but promised that in a few days she would call on me again. It is impossible to describe the wretched appearance of this accomplished woman. The failing to which she had now yielded, as to a monster that would destroy her, was evident, even at the moment when she was speaking to me. I saw no more of her; but, to my infinite regret, I was informed, some years after, that she had died, the martyr of a premature decay, brought on by the indulgence of her propensity to intoxication—in the workhouse of Chelsea!” Mrs. Robinson adds, that— “The number of my mother’s pupils in a few months amounted to ten or twelve; and, just at a period when an honourable independence promised to cheer the days of an unexampled parent, my father unexpectedly returned from America. The pride of his soul was deeply wounded by the step which my mother had taken; he was offended even beyond the bounds of reason. * * * * * “At the expiration of eight months, my mother, by my father’s positive commands, broke up her establishment, and returned to London.”