There are moments in which shameless profligates look foolish and feel that they are contemptible. This was such a moment to Lord Spoonbill. He was moved, and he was mortified that he was moved; and there was a general feeling of confusion and perplexity in his mind. What could he say? or how could he act? He began to stammer out something like gentleness, and something like reproof. But she who stood before him was as an accusing spirit, to whom apology was mockery, and repentance too late. At length, when the first emotion began to abate, he said: “Ellen, what brings you here? Surely this is not a proper day for a visit like this. What could induce you too to endeavour to see the Earl? If you once mention the affair to him you are irretrievably ruined; I can do nothing for you.” A reproachful look, a deep sigh, and the withdrawing her hand from his, were the only answer which the above speech received. She attempted to speak, but words were wanting; and after a little more appearance of confusion on the part of his lordship, he seemed for the first time to notice her mourning dress, and with real tenderness of manner asked her what peculiar loss or misfortune had brought her to Smatterton. Assuming then a steadiness of tone and greater composure of manner, she at last spoke out: “My lord, it is indeed a deep affliction which has brought me to appeal to your pity. You took me from a widowed mother; you deserted me with promises unfulfilled. I returned to that dwelling which was destined to be my home no more. I have closed my mother’s eyes, which did indeed look a forgiveness which she could not speak. I am now an outcast, unless I can find the means of reaching a distant relative, who will give me a home. I have made frequent application by letter to your lordship and to the Earl, and I was fearful that my letters had not reached you; and I had no resource but to come here to speak for myself.” Lord Spoonbill had received these letters; not only those addressed to himself, but those designed for his father. He had paid but little attention to them; for the name of Ellen Fitzpatrick had ceased to be interesting to him. He had in former days made small pecuniary remittances; but had latterly declined them. But now seeing before him one whom he had deeply injured, and beholding her as a suppliant in the most humble attitude, and hearing that it was possible that an arrangement might be made, whereby he should no longer be troubled with her visits or letters, he felt his mind greatly relieved, and he was disposed to be generous. He therefore promptly supplied her with the means of reaching her friend, and enjoined, with no little earnestness, that she should leave Smatterton immediately, and that without even returning again to the village.