The worthy girl wept. She looked down. She seemed as if she were pulling threads out of her handkerchief: but was unable to return any other answer, than what her eyes, once cast up, as if to Heaven, made for her.

Give me, my good Miss Danby (I would not distress you) give me, as your brothers did of their si — tuation, some account of yours. Do you live with either of your brothers?

No, Sir. I live with an aunt: my mother’s sister.

Is she good to you?

Yes, Sir, very good. But she has children; and cannot be so good as she would be to me. Yet she has always been kind; and has made the best of my uncle’s allowance for my education: and my for-tune, which is unbroken, is the same sum that he gave my brothers: and it is in good hands: and the interest of it, with my aunt’s additional goodness and management, enables me to make a genteel figure: and, with my own housewifery, I never have wanted some little matters for my pocket.

Good girl! thought I Mercantile carle! thy bro-ther Edward, pretty one! How dared he to say, that women are drugs? Who, in their ceconomy, short as their power is, are generally superior to men!

Your uncle was very good to put you upon a foot with your brothers, in his bounty to them; as now he has also done in his will: and assure yourself, that his representative will be equally kind to you as to your brothers. But shall I ask you, as your uncle would have done Is there any one man in the world, whom you prefer to another?

She was silent; looked down; and again picked her handkerchief.

I called in her elder brother (not the drug — mer-chant) and asked him, What he knew of his sister’s affections?

Why, my good Dr. Bartlett, are these women ashamed of owning a laudable passion? Surely there is nothing shameful in discreet love.

Her brother sacquainted me with the story of her love; the good girl blushing, and looking down all the while, with the consciousness of a sweet thief, who had stolen a heart, and, being required to re-store it, had been guilty of a new cheat, and given her own instead of it.

The son of Mr. Galliard, an eminent Turkey-merchant, is the man with whom she has made this exchange. His father, who lives in the neighbour-hood of her aunt, had sent him abroad, in the way of his traffick; partly with a view to prevent his mar-rying Miss Danby, till it should be seen whether her uncle would do any-thing considerable for her: and he was but just returned; and, in order to be allowed to stay at home, had promised his father never to marry without his consent: but nevertheless loved his sister, Mr. Danby said, above all women; and declared that he never would be the husband of any other.