Ellen, warm-hearted and benevolent, was extremely anxious to see this unfortunate family: Jane had given her the letter just before St. Aubyn came into her room, and fearing if she declared her purpose he would oppose it, lest her health should be injured by the emotion she must necessarily feel from the sight of this unhappy mother and her children, she concealed the letter, and did not exactly tell him why she wished so much to go out, though aware that she must appear unusually pertinacious; but she had set her heart with all the fervor of youth on her object: above all, she desired to see the poor little infant, for Ellen, always fond of children, had, since she knew herself likely to become a mother, felt a peculiar interest in young children, and ardently wished to see and provide for one who had so many claims to the compassion of a tender heart; and having really some purchases to make, she gave without consideration _that_ as her only motive for going out. Never before had she departed for an instant from the singular sincerity of her character, and the perfect confidence which she reposed in her husband; dearly did she soon repent of having done so now. On asking Laura to go with her, she unexpectedly declined it, having a bad head-ache, and tried to persuade Ellen not to go herself, but to send Jane, and go some other time: but Ellen was so unusually fixed on her point, and her imagination was so impressed with the idea of the _poor little infant_, that, for a wonder, she was not to be prevailed on; and fearing, lest Lady Juliana should come and prevent her, she ordered the carriage directly, and set out. She drove first to ---- Street, where she found the distrest family in all the poverty and affliction which had been described to her--the unfortunate mother, still weak, and scarcely able to support herself, obliged to act as nurse, not only to the infant, but to her eldest daughter, who, pale and languishing, seemed ready every moment to breathe her last, while two or three other children were playing in the room, distracting by their unconscious noise the poor invalids. The tender and compassionate Ellen felt her heart opprest at this melancholy sight, and hastened as much as possible to relieve it: she held herself the baby in her arms, while she sent Jane to seek a nurse for the poor girl, and to the woman of the house where they lodged, to whom she spoke herself; and requested she would take charge of the other children, till the mother was more able to do so. She gave the widow an ample supply of money to procure every thing necessary for her herself and family, and after promising to send a physician to attend the poor girl, and kissing the baby, she departed, followed by thanks and blessings, "not loud but deep," and went to see the poor old blind lady, who, always delighted to hear her sweet voice and kind expressions, detained her as long as she could.