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beset by such sort of gentry quite so frequently. Pray, young woman, what is it you want here?"
"Protection, Madam, and compassion!" replied the stranger, in a tone of supplication.
"I protest," said Mrs. Maple, "she has just the same sort of voice that that black girl had! and the same sort of cant! And pray, young woman, what's your name?"
"That's right, Mrs. Maple, that's right!" cried Ireton; make her tell her name!"
"To be sure I shall!" said Mrs. Maple, seating herself on a sofa, and taking out her snuff-box. "I have a great right to know the name of a person that comes, in this manner, into my parlour. Why do you not answer, young woman?"
The stranger, looking at Elinor, clasped her hands in act of entreaty for pity.
"Very fine, truly!" said Mrs. Maple: "So here's just the second edition of the history of that frenchified swindler!"
