doctor said, she died of a consumption; but I know it was of a troubled conscience, and a broken heart; although a penitent one. I was with her the last night she breathed in this world. I shall never forget her! Such a dying-bed, Madam! She raved continually of Miss Flint, of Mrs. Howard, of Mr. Flamall; then looking piteously in my face, she would ask me twenty times 'who told me the secret.' Weary with hearing her, I at length said, 'What secret?' '_The coffin!_ put me in! put me in, they will not find me _there_!' said she. Another time, she called on Mr. Philip Flint. 'Oh, do not let him hang me!' said she, struggling and tearing off the cap on her head, 'I nursed you; I was faithful to you; I loved you as the child of my own body! Poor child! you could not help it!' 'Help what!' asked I. 'That Mrs. Howard died for want of bread,' answered she. Then followed another struggle for breath. Then she knew me, and said, 'Pray for me, I am dying. All is over with me!' So, I soothed her; and she pressed my hand, and held it so fast I could not get it from her. Then she whispered so low, I could understand only these words:--'They told me it was _a deed_!' In this manner she continued till five o'clock in the morning. When, poor, poor soul! she sunk into her last sleep, trying to spell the word _Philip_; which she never could do: at nine her sufferings closed. "You will not wonder, after this account, at my opinion of Miss Flint," continued the good woman. "I am not the only one in this neighbourhood who believes she has no more right to the wealth she enjoys than I have; though but few have my reasons for this belief. However, what I think I keep to myself, not even Susan knows what I have told you; who, like an angel, have taken care to remove from this _vile woman_ a niece whom she hated; for the wicked can never bear the sight of those whom they have defrauded. God is just, Madam, even in this world. Let Miss Flint try to purchase, with her ill-gotten wealth, one sleep like yours, when you close your eyes, thinking of the innocent lamb you have protected! Poor wretch! poor wretch!" added she, shaking her venerable head, "I pity her. But to proceed, you may guess at our surprise, when we found that Mrs. Barnes had left to us every shilling she had; and you may judge of what passed in my mind, when I found she had signed her will that very day on which she so accidentally met Mr. Flamall and his nephew. This estate was left me only for my life. Susan had her legacy, in the furniture and clothes. The dear children are my heirs. They are orphans, Miss Cowley," added she, sinking her voice to a whisper, "poor orphans! What could I do in such a strait! But I often think of the _price_ my poor friend gave for the means of these children's future bread. How do I know that the wages of sin will prosper even in the hands of the innocent?"--"Leave that consideration," replied I, "to the Providence which directed its uses to the innocent.