The dear lady listened to reason in a minute, and consented to put herself in your hands, for which reason she is going to set off for London to-morrow morning. She will bring all Lord Mucklebury's letters with her, and it will be for you to judge what use can be made of them;--only it is but right to mention, that there is no doubt in the world but that Mrs. Barnaby is quite rich enough to pay handsomely, whether she gains the cause or loses it. "I am, my dear Magnus, "Your affectionate sister, "SARAH MORRISON." Mrs. Barnaby enclosed this letter in an envelope, in which she wrote,-- "Mrs. Barnaby presents her compliments to Mr. Magnus Morrison, and will be happy to see him on the business to which the enclosed letter refers at any hour he will name." "No. 5, Half-moon Street, Piccadilly." Having consigned her packet to the post, the widow declared to her anxious companion that she did not mean to waste her time as long as she remained in London; but should walk to every part of the town, and should expect her to do the same. "Will there not be danger of losing ourselves, aunt?" said Agnes. "London, you know, is so much bigger than any place you ever saw." "And what's the good of that piece of wisdom, Miss Solomon? Perhaps you don't know that I have a tongue in my head, and that the Londoners speak English?... Come, and put on your bonnet, if you please, and I'll promise not to leave you in any of the gutters, but bring you safe home again to _No. 5, Half-moon Street, Piccadilly_. There, you see, I shall know what place to ask for. Won't that do for you?" Agnes felt that all remonstrance would be in vain, and submitted; though the idea of being dragged through the streets of London by her aunt Barnaby, dressed in the identical green satin gown and pink feathers which had first attracted Lord Mucklebury's attention, was by no means an agreeable prospect. The expedition, however, fatiguing and disagreeable as it proved, was achieved without any very disastrous results. Mrs. Barnaby, indeed, was twice very nearly knocked down by a cab, while staring too eagerly about her when crossing the streets; and friendly as was the old black crape veil of poor Agnes, it could not wholly save her from some tolerably obvious efforts to find out whether the face it sheltered was worthy the graceful symmetry of the person who wore it; ... but they nevertheless reached their Half-moon Street without any positive injury to life or limb. At eight o'clock in the evening, while Mrs. Barnaby and her weary companion were taking tea, the drawing-room door opened, and Mr. Magnus Morrison was announced, and most cordially welcomed by the widow, who not only saw in him the lawyer from whom she hoped to learn how to replenish her waning finances, but also the brother of her dear Miss Morrison, and the only acquaintance she could hope at this trying moment to find or make in London.