Returning home, rejoicing in the good she had done, feeling herself animated by the purest pleasure, and quite well in health, Ellen suddenly recollected that she was close by the street where Mrs. Birtley lived, with whom she had lodged the first time she was in London; and she thought she would just stop at the door, and ask for the book she had left there, for which Jane had, as she said, always forgotten to call: it was that very volume of Gray which Mordaunt had given her, and as his first gift she was really anxious to recover it. Meaning merely to stop at the door, and send Jane in for it, she pulled the check, and ordered the coachman to drive down that street, and stop at No. 6, and told Jane for what purpose she was going. "Oh, my Lady," said the talkative girl, "I shall be rejoiced that Mrs. Birtley should see you in all your grandeur: she will be surprized after all she had the impertinence to say." "Indeed," said Ellen, "I never thought of that: she will wonder to see me under such a different appearance, and perhaps say something in the hearing of the servants. I will not go." "Oh, my Lady," answered Jane, "she need not know who you are: only ask for the book, and come away directly: she will not know a bit the more what your Ladyship's real name is; and I suppose she is not enough amongst the grand people to know the livery or carriage." "True," said Ellen: "well, you shall go in and ask for the book, but do not explain any thing to her." "Oh, no, indeed, my Lady," said Jane; "so far from it, I shall enjoy seeing her puzzle----" While they spoke, the carriage stopped at the door of Mrs. Birtley. Ellen, who half repented having come, sat back in the carriage, and told Jane to go in and ask for the book, and not to say she was there, for she would not alight: but notwithstanding Ellen's caution, Mrs. Birtley, having been drawn to the window by seeing such an elegant equipage stop at her door, caught a glimpse of her as the footman opened the door of the chariot for Jane to alight, came to the side of the carriage, and with civility asked her if she would not walk in. Ellen, feeling more and more the absurdity of which she had been guilty in coming to the door of a woman who she knew entertained of her a doubtful opinion, and to whom she could not explain herself, coldly declined the offer; but the coachman said he feared the horses would not turn very well, as the street was rather narrow, and that it would be better if her Ladyship pleased to alight for a moment, lest she should be alarmed. Mrs. Birtley stared at the "_Ladyship_" as much as she had done at the _coronetted carriage_ and fine horses; for she was not quite so ignorant of _grand people_, as Jane, in the plenitude of her own newly-acquired knowledge, had supposed her.