Ellen took advantage of the confusion to slip out of the room; and in a few moments she left the house.
Her occupation was now once more gone; and she resolved to pay another visit to the old hag.
Accordingly, in a few days she again sought the miserable court in Golden Lane.
It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, when the young lady entered the apartment in which the old hag dwelt. The wrinkled wretch was seated at the table, working. She had bought herself a new gown with a portion of the money which she had received from Ellen on the occasion of recommending the latter to the Mesmerist; and the old woman's looks were joyful—as joyful as so hideous an expression of countenance would allow them to be—for she thought of being smart once more, even in her old age. Vanity only ceases with the extinction of life itself.
"Well, my child," said the old woman, gaily; "you have come back to me again. Surely you have not already finished with your Mesmerist?"
"Yes," replied Ellen. "The bubble has burst; and I am once more in search of employment."
"And in such search, miss, will you ever be, until you choose to settle yourself in a manner suitable to your beauty, your accomplishments, and your merits," said the old woman.
"In what way could I thus settle myself?"
"Do you ask me so simple a question? May you not have a handsome house, a carriage, servants, money, rich garments, jewels, and a box at the Opera, for the mere asking?"
"I do not require so much," answered Ellen, with a smile. "If I can earn a guinea or two a week, I shall be contented."