“Enough! enough!” ejaculated the mother, who, bad as she herself was, felt a cold chill come over her at this open, audacious, and unblushing avowal of her daughter’s depravity,--a depravity that was not however unknown, either in circumstances or extent, to the old woman. “Give me your arm, Perdita--assist me to mount this hill,--for I am ready to drop. There! you are a good girl! Ah! Perdita--I was once young and beautiful as you are now,--well-formed too, and elegant in carriage! I was a lady in every sense of the word--as far as outward appearance and manners went. But now--oh! how altered I am! My toothless mouth was once filled with pearls as white as yours--my bust was as voluptuous and as firm--my figure was as upright--my feet and ankles as delicate--and my step as light! Ah! that was many--many years ago, Perdita!” [Illustration] “Shall you not be glad, mother, to visit London again?” demanded the young woman. “Yes--for ’tis the only city in the world where adventuresses like ourselves--beggars, I may say--are certain to succeed. Oh! you have no idea of what a pandemonium is the great metropolis of England!” exclaimed the harridan, with strange emphasis. “’Tis a furnace in which millions of passions, interests, and ideas are ever boiling--boiling madly and as if in rage: ’tis a scene of immense iniquity and of boundless luxury--of wondrous intrigues and ineffable enjoyments.” “Oh! how I long to plunge headlong into that fine city!” cried Perdita. “It is a vortex that will suit my disposition well.” “Aye--and play your cards as I shall prompt,” observed her mother; “and you will speedily be the mistress of all the pleasures which London can afford. But, oh! I am ready to drop with weariness--I am dying with hunger and thirst, Perdita: and not a penny have we to purchase a morsel of bread----” “I see a strong light yonder--there, mother--in that bye-lane,” said the young woman. “Shall we repair in that direction--perhaps it may be a hospitable cottage----” “No: ’tis a gipsy’s encampment--I can distinguish the cart and the tent,” interrupted the old wretch. “But the gipsy race are good and generous; and they will not refuse us a morsel of bread and a cup of water.”