During this time I was with Jenny all day long ready to be of service to her. The more I observed her, the more I marvelled at the strange power which brought all men to their knees before her. She had but to smile upon them and they were conquered. The Governor of the Prison was her servant; the turnkeys were her slaves; her visitors crowded her narrow cell every afternoon, while Jenny received them dressed like a Countess with the manner of a Countess. Sometimes I was honoured by her commands to play to them; tea and chocolate were served daily. Great ladies came with the rest to gaze upon her; actresses, once her rivals, now came, all rivalry apart, to weep over her; gentlemen wrote her letters of passionate love; portrait painters begged on their knees permission to limn her lovely features. In a word, for a while the centre of fashion was Jenny's cell in Newgate. And every day, among the visitors stood my Lord of Brockenhurst, foremost in sympathy and truest in friendship. He was, indeed, as Jenny had assured me, the most loyal of the gentlemen and the most sincere of friends. It must be added that Jenny's time in prison was not wholly spent in converting a cell into a drawing-room of fashion. The unfortunate women, her fellow-prisoners, were much worse off than the men; they had fewer friends; they were suffered to starve on the penny loaf a day, the allowance of the prison. They lay for the most part in cold and starvation; in rags and dirt and misery overwhelming. Jenny went into their yard and among them. There was the poor creature who had caused her arrest. She was half starved now. Jenny gave her food and spoke to her friendly without reproach; she sent food to others who were starving. She not only fed them; she talked to them, not about their sins, because poor Jenny knew nothing about sins except so far as that certain deeds are punished by the law; but she talked to them about being clean and neat: she revived the womanly instinct in them: made them wash themselves, dress their hair, and take pleasure again in making themselves attractive. Never had a woman a keener sense of the duty of women to be beautiful. She made them in a week or two so civilized that they left off fighting: there was not a black eye in the place; and while Jenny was in the ward there was hardly so much as a foul word. It was pretty to see how they loved her and welcomed her and would have worked themselves to death for her. Poor lost souls--if indeed they are lost! They must all be dead now. The horrible gallows has killed some; the gaol fever, others; the fever of bad food and bad drink and bad air, others, yet until the day of death I am sure that all remembered Jenny. Notably, there was her accuser. She was sullen at first; she was revengeful; next she was ashamed and turned aside; then she wept; and then she became like a tame kitten following her through the ward, hungering and thirsting for one more word--one more word of