freedoms I scarce knew how to repulse. One morning after dressing I went into the garden, a thing unusual with me at that hour, and going round a serpentine walk, which led to a summer-house, I thought I heard voices there; I stopped at the back of it, which, as well as the front, had a door that opened into the garden, and plainly heard Agatha's voice, saying, "I tell you, Sir, there is no other way, send Albert off for a few days, or turn him off at once, for he loves Miss Matilda as if she were his own child, and therefore we must get rid of him; but you are so long settling your mind—get into her room at night when she's asleep, I'll take care nobody comes there, or tell her roundly at once you are not an uncle to her—I would not longer stand upon ceremony." "Well, Agatha, I'll take your advice, and dispatch Albert to-morrow, and the next night I will be happy." You may suppose, madam, I was scarcely able to support myself. Having heard thus far I tottered from the summer house, and got into the shrubbery, where I threw myself on the ground, and preserved myself from fainting by a copious flood of tears.
"Overwhelmed by my own reflections, without a friend or habitation to fly to for protection, uncertain whether this man was really my uncle or not, yet convinced he had the most diabolical designs against me, and that in his house I could not be safe: it is impossible to describe my feelings and distress; at length I arose and recollected what the horrid woman had said of Albert, it was my only resource. I walked from the garden towards the stables; most fortunately I met him coming from them. "Albert, (said I, hastily) I wish to speak with you, follow me into the park." The man looked surprised—"Me Miss—I follow you?" "Yes, immediately," (I replied.) I walked quickly to the park, he came after me; when out of sight of the house I turned to him—"Albert, do you love me? are you willing to serve me?" "Aye,
