‘Oh, yes, to be sure he is,’ answered the old woman; ‘for he has taken up his quarters here altogether now, and therefore you will have plenty of his company.’ ‘Living in the same house,’ muttered our heroine to herself, and she trembled more violently than before; ‘alas! what will become of me?’ ‘Oh, no doubt he will take plenty of care of you, young lady,’ answered the old woman, with a bitter sneer. ‘He shall find,’ said Inez, mustering up sudden firmness, and speaking in a tone that astonished and abashed the old woman, ‘he shall find that I have both the spirit and the virtue to resist his importunities, and Heaven will aid me to defeat his design. The guilty wretch; surely for his many crimes a terrible retribution must be now pending o’er his head.’ ‘The spirit you boast of, young lady,’ said the old woman, ‘I have no doubt will be very quickly turned, or Mr. Blodget is not half so accomplished as I take him to be.’ Inez darted upon her a look of disgust and indignation, but she could not make her any reply, and after making two or three observations of a similar description, the old woman quitted the room. We need not attempt to describe the feelings of our heroine when the old woman had gone: the disgusting observations of the old woman, and the fearful prospects which was before her, filled her bosom with the utmost consternation, and although she tried very hard to rally her spirits, and prepare to meet Blodget with fortitude, it was some considerable time before she had it in her power to succeed. To know that Blodget was an inmate of the same house with her, was sufficient of itself to excite the greatest agony in her bosom; and when she reflected that it was not probable that he would longer be able to restrain his wild, unbridled passions, and that any resistance on her part, would be completely futile, she became almost distracted.—Alas! she thought, how much more preferable would death have been to the state of agony in which she was thus constantly kept. It was only for the sake of Monteagle and her father, whom she could not entirely despair of beholding again, that she clung to life, and had she not had them to occupy her thoughts, and her heart’s warmest affections, she would have met death with fortitude, nay, even pleasure. What had been the last few days of her life, but of misery? All mankind had seemed arrayed in enmity against her, and few indeed were the real friends she had found. Her tears flowed fast at these thoughts, and they gave relief to her overcharged bosom. At length she struggled with her emotions, and so far regained her composure, that she was enabled to partake of the repast which the old woman brought her, and to prepare to meet Blodget, whom she had no doubt, and indeed the old woman had said he would, visit her in a short time.