“Four months had thus passed away; and during this interval Julia had never once seen _the gentleman in the cloak_; nor had she received a visit from her father’s debtor, to whose honesty and generosity she owed so much. She called once upon Mr. Richardson to express a hope that the individual thus alluded to would give her an opportunity of thanking him personally; but the lawyer assured her, and, as she thought, somewhat abruptly, that he had left the country on a long voyage; and she returned home, much vexed at the tidings she had received. One evening--it was a Saturday evening, and at about nine o’clock--a cab stopped at the door, and a double-knock immediately announced some visitor. It happened that the housekeeper was absent on a visit of two or three days to some relations in the country--the girl who had been temporarily hired to do her work, and who did not sleep in the house, had gone for the night--and Harry was in bed in his own little room adjoining his sister’s bed-chamber up-stairs. Julia was accordingly compelled to answer the door herself; and her surprise was only equalled by her delight, when she found that her visitress was Lady Caroline Jerningham, who had arrived thus mysteriously in a common street-cab, which she had dismissed on alighting at her young friend’s house. Miss Murray received her with the most sincere manifestations of joy, and conducted her into the parlour, where a cheerful fire was burning in the grate; for though it was now the month of April, yet the evenings had not entirely lost the chill of winter. You must remember that Julia had not seen Lady Caroline since that evening when the latter sent for her to the mansion in Hanover Square, and on which occasion they had exchanged vows of friendship. Nearly five months had passed since that date; and it struck Julia, as the light of the candles flashed upon the fair patrician’s countenance, that she was much altered. Her face was pale and care-worn; and her eyes beamed not with their wonted fires. ‘My dear Julia,’ she said, seating her self near the fire, ‘I had intended to call upon you long ago; but I have been ill and suffering, in mind and body. However,’ she added, hastily, ‘I have never once forgotten you; and I am delighted to find that your business has prospered so well.’--‘I am under obligations to your ladyship which I can never repay,’ exclaimed Julia, taking the patrician’s hand, and conveying it to her lips.--‘Do not address me in that formal style, Julia,’ said Lady Caroline. ‘My God!’ she cried, bitterly, ‘would that I were _not_ of noble birth: would that I were a daughter of toil; for _then_ I should not have the thousand Argus-eyes of _the world_ upon me!’--and she clasped her hands in a manner indicative of deep mental anguish.--‘Dearest Lady Caroline,’ exclaimed Julia, ‘what ails you? Oh! tell me, and show me how I may minister to you in your sufferings!’--‘You once assured me, Julia,