"Yes. She saw it wasn't no use to try to carry on business against me; and she's hooked it to Melbourne." "There was a young woman with her, named Martha Stone," I continued, "can you tell me where _she_ is?" "Yes. She's another beauty. I am not at all astonished at young men inquirin' for _her_. Don't think I am, mister. I've kept that lady from starving for the last six months; and I'm about tired of it, I can tell you. This is a nice world we live in, sure enough. What might you be wantin' with Miss Stone?" "I wish to know where she is to be found--nothing more," I answered. "Certainly. You wish to know where she is! Of course you do. Why not?" said the disgusting creature, in a tone, and with a significant leer, that I have ever since been vainly endeavouring to forget. "What right have you to think, that I should know where any such a person lives?" continued the woman. "I wish you to understand, sir, that _I am a lady_." I should certainly never have thought it, without being told; but, not the least grateful for the information, I answered: "You say, that you know where Miss Stone is to be found. I am her brother, and wish to find her." "Oh! that's it, is it?" retorted the woman with a look of evident disappointment. Then, turning round, and forcing her neck someway up a narrow staircase, she screamed out, "Susan! Susan!" Soon after, a very young girl--apparently half-starved--made her appearance at the bottom of the stairs. "Susan," said the only woman I ever hated at first sight, "tell this man, where Miss Stone lives." There was something not so bad in the creature after all; and I began to fancy, I had been wronging her. "Please, sir," said Susan, pointing with outstretched arm towards one of the sides of the shop, "go up this street, till you come to the baker's shop; then turn round this way, and go on till you pass the public-house with the picture of the horse on it; then turn that way, and go on till you come to where the house was burnt down; cross the street there, and go on to the house where they sell lollies; go by that, and at the turning beyond go this way until you come to the house with the green window blinds--" "That will do," I exclaimed. "I don't want to lose my senses, as well as my sister. Can you tell me, Susan, the name of the street, and the number of the house, in which Miss Stone resides?" "No, sir, thank you," answered Susan. "Can you go there--if this lady will give you leave?" "Yes, sir, if you please," said the girl, glancing timidly at her mistress. I thought the mistress would refuse; and even hoped she would. Anxious as I was to find my sister, I did not like to receive even so slight a favour from one whom I had hated with so very little exertion.