"I don't mean that Sort of Distance, Sir. But no Matter—I rejoice in it with all my Heart, Mr. Fenwick!"

He looked at me earnestly, was going to say Something, and stopped.

"Don't you think," said he, after a Minute's Silence, "that I might marry on this?"

"Surely, Sir!"

"And could you, Patty, whom I know so thoroughly and love so heartily, consent to be the Wife of a City Parson?"

—Oh! there could be only one Moment in Life like that!—And yet, have not I had many happy Moments, Hours, and Years since? I can't, to this Day, make out how he ever came to think of me; when there were Prue, and Gatty, and doubtless many young Gentlewomen of his Congregation, to say Nothing of remote Country Cousins, (for he had no near Relations,) to whom I could be but a mere Foil! I could not make it out then, and I can't make it out now; but I am quite content to leave the Mystery unsolved, and decide that Affection settles all Distinctions, and Marriages are made in Heaven. I must say I was very thankful to dear, good Dr. Elwes, when his Will came to be opened, (which had been made some Months before his sudden Death,) to find he had left Prue and me Five Hundred Pounds each, in the handsomest Manner, with more Terms of Praise of our "laudable Conduct in difficult Circumstances," than I need to repeat. I say, I was glad of this Legacy, and of the handsome Way in which it was left, because it seemed to make me a little less unworthy of Mr. Fenwick's Regard; not that it had a Bit of Influence with him, however, his Offer having been made and accepted before the Will was opened: so that Nothing could be more disinterested than his Behaviour from first to last.

And the Presentation to this Living came through the Recommendation of Mr. Caryl!—accompanied by a very flattering Letter, saying it was a Piece of Justice, and that he knew of no Man on whom his Uncle could have better bestowed it. A Piece of Justice, I privately consider it; and a Salve to his own Conscience for pitifully burning the Poem of a Man that writ better than himself. Nothing can destroy that Conviction. But I keep it quite secret; the only Secret I have ever kept or will keep from my Husband, and this only because I would not lower his Patron's Nephew in his Estimation.

Certainly the Gift of a good Living was far more than an Equivalent for the best Poem that ever was writ; but yet, Poets have naturally such an overweening Opinion of the Importance of their Productions to the World, and of their own Mission as Regenerators of Society, that to them it is an exceeding hard Thing to lose the Fame and Influence they believe they deserve; and I question whether those of 'em that take the highest Flights (from practical Affairs and common Sense, that is,) would consider themselves at all compensated for the Loss of a heavy Poem by the Gain of a fat Living.

But my Husband hath since appeared in Print, in a Way that's highly honourable to himself and gratifying to his Connexions, without being beholden to any Patron whatsoever. He has printed a Funeral Sermon on Mrs. Eusebia Crate, a highly estimable Member of his Congregation, which was brought out by Messrs. A. and B. Thompson, at the Sign of the Bible and Star, Fleet Street, handsomely bound in shiny black Leather, with a black Margin to the Title. This Sermon, which was published by Subscription, brought my Husband enough to buy a very handsome Mahogany Bookcase for his Study, and a Pair of Pulpit Sconces, besides its being named in the Gentleman's Magazine. And though Money was not my Husband's Object, yet, as the Work, it is thought, may attain to a second Edition, who knows but hereafter he may be as successful as Dr. Hugh Blair, who for his last Volume of Sermons received Six Hundred Pounds! Though amazing, it must be true, for they say it in Pater Noster Row!

As for dear Prue, her Legacy was as acceptable to her as mine to me, for though Tom conscientiously brings her all his Earnings and is now Captain of a fine Merchantman, Sailors are never over-rich; I think her queer Engagement to him steadied her a good Deal: it put an End to the least Approach to Trifling or Flirting, which she might have indulged in, had they been less seriously bound to one another; and my Mother's Contempt for the Contract and "the Bit of red Glass," went so to poor Prudence's Heart as to engender a Degree of Humility and Submissiveness quite contrary to her previous Character. With all this, she was deeply in Love with Tom, and silently, seriously happy; nor would she, I am convinced, have been released from her Engagement for the World. But it took away all Desire to be otherways placed than where she was, in the Bosom of her own Family, in the quiet, steady Performance of domestic Duties. So that, when I left Home, it was with the comfortable Conviction, which I have never seen the least Reason to alter, that she would supply my Place to my dear Father and Mother, as well as in the Business. Indeed, since my Husband married her to Tom, the necessary Absences of the latter from his Wife have rendered it very agreeable to all Parties that Prue's Home should still be in the Old Chelsea Bun-House. There's an Opposition House set up now, which has a little injured the old Business; but, happily, none of us are so dependent on it as we once were; and their Buns are accounted heavy, so that the ancient, steady-going Customers still resort to