The child you have referred to for her beauty is the child who was deserted. Nothing is known of her parentage or belongings. She has grown up amongst us, and is loved by all. To me, a childless man, she is as my own daughter, and I could not feel more deeply for her were she of my own blood. But it was a matter of remark from the first, and has continued so, that, from all appearance, she is superior in certain ways to those whom a strange fate has condemned her to herd with. You see, sir, that I do not rate myself and those of my order too highly. I have given her what education it was in my power to bestow. She is in all respects a lady, and as beautiful a girl as this city contains. As is natural, so bright a being has attracted the attention of those in my station of life--I do not say in hers--who desire matrimony. But she has consistently declined to entertain their proposals, and has, so to speak, set her head above them--as she has done from the first, in every possible way. Whether this comes from her parents, who, for the credit of human nature, I hope are dead, it is beyond me to say. There are mysteries which we weak mortals are powerless to probe. I come now, sir, to that part of my story which most nearly touches the object of my visit to you. "Before you proceed, favour me with the name of this child." "I must ask you to receive it in all seriousness, sir. I am afraid that I am principally to blame for it, but it sprung out of a whimsical fancy, and in one of those moments of extravagance for which we are scarcely accountable. The child had no name; the villain who brought her into the neighbourhood, and deserted her, left none behind him; and in such a moment as I have spoken of, the name--if it can be called so--of the Duchess of Rosemary Lane was given her. It was undoubtedly wrong, but it has clung to her, and she bears no other." "Go on now to the immediate purport of your note to me." "As I have said, she has attracted the attention of many suitors in my station of life, but she has turned a deaf ear to all. She has attracted other attention--the attention of a gentleman moving presumably, nay certainly, in a higher position in society than that she occupies. Have you no suspicion of the point I am coming to?" "None." "The person I speak of," proceeded Seth, with a heavy sigh, "meets my child regularly, and has given her such gifts as only a gentleman could afford to give." "An old story," interrupted Mr. Temple.