He visited us often, for his time was altogether his own. He was living upon expectancy, and accordingly had more leisure than money. At various periods I pressed him to make my purse his own, and he did so. I had, indeed, more money at my disposal than I cared for, or knew what to do with; and at that time I thought, when I served a friend, that I had found the best employment of it. It is strange,--and yet perhaps it is not by any means strange,--how men alter in this particular as they grow older. The heart-strings and the purse-strings are not so easily drawn then. Well, I was his banker, and felt myself sufficiently repaid by his society. About this time, also, I was greatly occupied in business of a somewhat troublesome nature, to conclude which it was necessary that I should visit my estate. My probable term of absence was to be about six weeks. The fashionable season was in its meridian, and I could not be cruel enough to ask Isabella to accompany me. She had latterly taken more pleasure in parties, and balls, and concerts than heretofore. Perhaps I had kept her too close; we were too domestic. After all, it was not the way of the world. I thought so, and Hastings agreed with me;--I would see it reformed altogether when I return. In the mean while I begged Hastings to look in now and then, and see that she was not lonely and out of spirits. It was natural to expect that my first absence from her would cause her to feel so. He promised to do as I requested, and I set off into the country, where I was detained more than two months; and at length, finding myself released from an irksome attendance on very unpleasant business, I took post-horses, and with all the ardour of a lover returned to London. I returned to London.-- I remember the minutest particulars of that scene so well! Not a tittle of it has escaped my memory--not a word, not a syllable! It will never depart from my mind--from my soul! When the porter opened the door, I hastened through the hall, and sprang up stairs into the drawing-room. She was not there; but my little boy, hearing my well-known footstep, came from the adjoining room and ran towards me. I caught him in my arms, and gave him a thousand kisses. "Well, my dear little fellow, and where is mamma?" "Not here--not here," said the boy, looking around; "but I'm so glad you've come back!" Isabella was gone out, doubtless. I rang the bell. I did not observe Mrs. Martin, the housekeeper, enter the room,--I was still caressing the child. "Ha! Mrs. Martin--But what's the matter? You look ill.--Where is Mrs. Saville?" The woman spoke not, but trembled violently, and turned very pale. I motioned her to take a seat. She did so. "My dear madam, you alarm me," said I. "Is anything wrong--your mistress----" Tears were streaming down the woman's face, as she arose suddenly, and with her hands clasped before her she came towards me.