So my _Mother_ looked him out No. 114, which begins, "I was walking about my Chamber this Morning in a very gay Humour, when I saw a Coach stop at my Door, and a Youth of about fifteen alight out of it,"--and goes on to describe the Death of the Wife and Mother of the Family. We were presently all in Tears; _Gatty_ even sobbing; and Mr. _Fenwick_ seemed irresolute once or twice whether to proceed or stop. However, he went on, and when he came to the Husband fainting, my Attention was divided between him and my _Father_, who at that Crisis gave not a Sigh but a Snore. He was fast asleep. My _Mother_, ashamed of him, gave him a little Nudge, and said, "My Dear!" on which he turned on his Side, murmured, "Very like a Whale!" and was off again as sound as a Top. None of us could help laughing a little, and after this, there were no more Tears shed. We supped, and separated for the Night. _Gatty_ and I still slept together; and, as we were undressing, she said, "I fear your Sister thought me affected to-night for crying at that Death-Bed Scene; she gave me such a Look! Indeed I could not help it; I have witnessed one so much like it; and my Spirits are yet tender." I said, "Pray do not think of it again--_Prudence_ has that sharp Look sometimes, and seems just now under some little Misapprehension; but in the Main, there cannot be a better Creature. She has not seen so much of you as I have, but yet, I am sure she likes you, and admires you too." "Nobody can do that," says _Gatty_; "but I don't want to be admired, though I own it is pleasant to me to be liked, and not to be misapprehended." As she lay down, she said sighing, "Most likely, this is the last Night I shall pass in this dear little Bed." I said, "Shall you be sorry to leave us?" "To be sure I shall!" cried she; "you have been Kindness itself to me; even my Illness was solaced, and my Recovery has been very pleasant; but my Life in Servitude is anything but comfortable. I have heard or read a Line somewhere: '_And_ Betty's _praised for Labours not her own_.'" "In _my_ Case, the Reading might be-- '_And_ Gatty's _blamed for Blunders not her own_.'" "It cannot be helped. Good Night!" "I hope," said I, "we shall never quite lose Sight of one another." "Oh no! I hope not. You must write to me now and then." "Perhaps you can come to us when you have a Holiday." "I never have a Holiday. Lady _Betty_ knows I had no Friends when I came to Town, and does not approve of my making any." "No Friends! That does sound dreary!" "It _is_ dreary." I had now extinguished the Candle. She said no more; but I could hear her from Time to Time give a great Sigh. "_Gertrude_," I at length said softly, "are you crying?" She cleared her Throat a little, but made no Answer. "Tell me, Dear, what's the Matter." "I'm only a little low," she replied, huskily. "How I wish I had given you some reviving Drops, before I put out the Candle! I will light it again."