Not so much as a wink of sleep could I get, but did nothing but cry and fidget all that miserable night through. Not that I cared about Mr. Edward leaving me all alone in my distress at a time when he didn’t know whether I had a bed to lie down upon or not, or whether my severe cold might not take a serious turn, and end in a rheumatic fever, or goodness knows what,--it wasn’t this I cared about, I say; but it was the nasty, callous way in which he did it--not even so much as saying where a person might find him, supposing anything happened to one, and which I felt I never should be able to forget to my dying day. But I wasn’t going to submit to be treated worse than a parish orphan, so directly I heard the chimney-sweeps in the street, I tumbled out of bed, and merely taking the child and my hair-brush and such things as I couldn’t do without for a day or two, I went down stairs, and having cut off a slice of bread-and-butter, just to keep the wind out of my stomach, I wrote my lord a short letter, telling him that I had left his house FOR EVER!!! and signing it--“Your heart-broken and affectionate--though she-can-never-consent-to-live-with-you-again--wife CAROLINE,” and then putting the key of the tea-caddy inside the note, I left it with Betsy, telling her to give it to her master when he came home, and to be sure and have the breakfast all ready and comfortable for him by nine o’clock at the latest--and that I was going to Mrs. B--ff--n’s, but on no account to tell Mr. Sk--n--st--n where I had gone, as I wouldn’t have him know it for the world. Then off I went, with Kate in my arms and a tear in my eye, and made the best of my way round to dear mother’s, as I felt convinced, even if Betsy didn’t tell my husband, _that_ would be the first place to which he would fly to seek me, and that I should have him come rushing round to me and begging and praying of me to return to his disconsolate home, before a couple of hours were over my head.