The doctor took her hand, and after a pause said, “Mrs St. Felix, Eheu, me infelix!” and hastened out of the shop.
“Poor fellow!” said she, “he’ll miss me, and that’s the truth. Good bye, Jane; mind you look after everything till I come back, and take care of the dog and cat. Come, Tom, we’ll go now.”
I threw her trunk on my shoulders, and followed her till we came to the post-house: the chaise was ordered out, and we set off.
“Tom,” said Lady O’Connor, as I again call her, now that she is clear of Greenwich, “there is one portion of my history which you do not know—a very trifling part indeed. When I saw in the newspapers that my husband had, as I supposed, been executed, I am ashamed to say that I first thought of suicide; but my better feelings prevailed, and I then resolved to change my name, and to let people suppose that I was dead. It was for that reason that I left my bonnet by the river-side, and all my apparel in the house, only taking away a few trinkets and valuables, to dispose of for my future subsistence. I obtained a passage in a transport bound to Woolwich, on the plea of my husband having arrived from abroad; and, by mere accident, I found the goodwill of the tobacconist’s shop to be sold; it suited me—and there is the whole of my history which you do not know.
“And now, as to Virginia, I intend to have her with me very soon. Your mother is anxious that she should get into a high family, trusting that her beauty will captivate some of the members—a bad kind of speculation. I will advertise for a companion, and so arrange that your mother shall not see me; and when your sister does come to me, it shall not be as a companion, but as a child of my own. I owe you much, Tom—indeed, almost everything; and it is the only way in which I can repay you. I have already spoken to Sir James on the subject: he is equally ready to pay the debt of gratitude, and therefore in future Virginia is our adopted child.”
“You are more than repaying me, Lady O’Connor,” replied I, “and you are obliging me in the quarter where I feel the obligation the greatest.”
“That I believe, Tom; so now say no more about it.”
I may as well here inform the reader that I remained a week at Chatham, and that during that time Lady O’Connor put an advertisement in the county paper, such as we knew would be a bait to my mother. This paper I forwarded to Virginia, marking the advertisement. My mother immediately replied to it, and Sir James O’Connor went up to Greenwich and had an interview with my mother and Virginia, at apartments he had taken at the hotel; appeared pleased with my sister, and said that as soon as Lady O’Connor was sufficiently recovered she would send for her to Chatham. This took place in two days afterwards; my mother escorted Virginia there. Sir James stated that her ladyship was too unwell to see anybody, but that she would speak a few words to Virginia, and leave Sir James to settle the rest with my mother. Virginia came down to her mother, declared that Lady O’Connor was a very ladylike elegant person, and that she should wish to take the situation. The terms were handsome, and my mother, although she regretted not seeing her ladyship, was satisfied, and Virginia was to come in two days afterwards, which she did. Thus was my sister comfortably settled, and after remaining two days I took my leave of Sir James and Lady O’Connor, intending to return to Deal, when I received a letter from Peter Anderson, informing me that old Nanny had been suddenly taken very ill, and that Doctor Tadpole did not think it possible that she would survive more than twenty-four hours; that she was very anxious to see me, and that he hoped I would come up immediately.
I showed the letter to Lady O’Connor, who said, “You will go, of course, Tom.”
“Immediately,” replied I, “and the more so as this letter is dated three days back; how it has been delayed I do not know. Farewell, Lady O’Connor; and farewell, dearest Virginia. Old Nanny, as you both know, has many claims upon my gratitude.”