Really! well, that surprises me.—It may well surprise you, as it did myself, but I missed of a good ——
Pray how was that?—I will tell you. In one of the answers which I received, it was requested that I should attend a particular church on an appointed day, dressed in a particular way, and I should there meet a lady wearing a certain dress, and both understanding what we came about, no further introduction would be necessary.
But how could you know the particular lady, as there might be another lady dressed in the same way?—Oh, to guard against any mistake, the lady desired that I should wear a black handkerchief, and have my left arm in a sling; and in case I should not observe her, she would discover me and introduce herself.
And did you meet her?—I did not; I went to the church, but not in time, as the service was over when I got there.
Then as you did not meet her, how could you tell that she was a respectable woman?—Because the pew-opener told me that such a lady was inquiring for a gentleman of my description, and that she had come in an elegant carriage, and was a young woman of fortune. [Here the prisoner sighed heavily.]
Then you never saw her afterwards?—No, never; but I found out where she lived, and who she was; and would have had an interview with her, were it not that I was introduced to Mrs. Corder, and we never parted until we were married.
Pray, sir, was that long?—About a week.
We have reason to believe that this last assertion, like many of those made by the wretched man, was totally untrue; and that in reality he had been introduced to Mrs. Corder at a sea-port town, in the course of the summer before the marriage. They afterwards met at the shop of a pastry-cook in Fleet-street, and subsequently, singularly enough, the young lady having answered the advertisement, her next meeting with her future husband took place at the same shop. Mrs. Corder, whose maiden name was Moore, previously to her marriage kept a school in the neighbourhood of Gray’s-inn-lane, and was very respectably connected.