All around me strengthened the feelings of loneliness which are so apt to visit the heart of a stranger; and I anxiously looked from the carriage to descry the only spot in which I would claim an interest. The coach stopped at the door of a large house, handsome indeed, but more dark, I thought, and dismal if possible than the rest. I scarcely breathed till my summons was answered; nor was it without an effort that I enquired whether Mrs Murray was at home? 'No, madam,' was the answer; 'she has been gone this fortnight.' 'Gone! Good heavens! Whither?' 'To Portsmouth, madam. As soon as the news came of the Captain's coming in wounded, Mrs Murray and Miss Arabella set out immediately.' 'And did she leave no letter for me? No instructions?' The servant's answer convinced me that my arrival was even wholly unexpected. Struck with severe disappointment, overwhelmed with a sense of utter desertedness, my spirits failed; and I sunk back into the carriage faint and forlorn. 'Do you alight here ma'am?' enquired the coachman. 'No!' answered I, scarcely knowing what I said. 'Where do you go next?' asked the man. I replied only by a bitter passion of tears. 'Alas!' thought I, 'I once, in the mere wilfulness of despair, rejected the blessings of a home and a friend. How righteous is the retribution which leaves me now homeless and friendless!' 'Perhaps, ma'am,' said the servant, seemingly touched by my distress, 'Mrs Murray may have left some message with Mr Henry for you.' 'Mr Henry!' cried I; 'is Mrs Murray's son here?' 'Yes, ma'am. Mr Henry staid to finish his classes in the college. He is not at home just now; but I expect him every minute. Will you please to come in and rest a little?' With this invitation I thought it best to comply; and dismissing the coach, followed the servant into the house. I was shown into a handsome parlour, where the cheerful blaze of a Scotch coal fire gave light enough to show that all was elegance and comfort. My buoyant heart rose again; and, not considering how improbable it was that my patroness should commit a girl of eighteen to the guardianship of a youth little above the same age, I began to hope that Mrs Murray had given her son directions to receive me. In this hope I sat waiting his return; now listening for his approach; now trying to conjecture what instructions he would bring me; now beguiling the time with the books which were scattered round the room.