Richard Gilmore was sorely annoyed when Elizabeth Jones suggested very strong reasons for the immediate observance of his solemn promise of marriage; but he refused compliance, and sought to convince her that their union would only ruin him without saving her. She addressed her remonstrances to deaf ears. Marriage was out of the question, and she found herself a ruined, friendless creature, with the certainty of a speedy and disgraceful expulsion from the house in which she had for some years humbly earned her subsistence. However she vented no reproaches; she only upbraided with a tear, and communicated her determination to depart and carry her sorrows to some distant locality. Of this intention Richard fully approved; and he congratulated himself on the prospect of being so soon delivered from any future annoyance on the part of Elizabeth Jones. She fixed the time for leaving her situation, and requested a last interview with Mr. Gilmore, at an early hour, before the inmates of the house were stirring. Richard was punctual. She opened a writing-desk, and informed him that she had come to the resolution of releasing him from every promise on his part, from every claim which she could advance then or at any future time, on one condition; she only required his written pledge, upon his honor as an officer and a gentleman, that he would never seek to renew his acquaintance with her, or even pretend to know her if they met. To this he joyfully acceded, and placed the required document in her hands; but his curiosity induced him to enquire as to her motive in seeking such a solemn written undertaking. "Richard Gilmore," she said, "I was prostrated by acute and increasing misery, but a door of escape from total disgrace and destruction has been opened. I can never be happy, but I may have some opportunity for reflection, and ultimately, my mind may become somewhat tranquil. I shall soon be a mother. I am about to depart from Ireland for ever, and shall fix my residence in a retired part of England, and there, in the garb and under the designation of a widow, I shall devote myself to the care of the child of whom you are father, but for whom, I only insist and have stipulated with you, that you shall never disgrace your offspring by disclosing its paternity, and never remind me by your presence of the degradation to which, by your falsehood, I have been reduced." "But," said Gilmore, "your means are scanty, and for a time you must be incapable of any industrial pursuit or exertion. I can give you some pecuniary assistance; it is my duty to do all I can to alleviate your sufferings. I deserve your reproaches, and would gladly do anything to prove that I am not so utterly heartless as you think me."