“O my dear doctor!” answered Amelia, “sure some good angel hath sent you hither. My poor Will is arrested again. I left him in the most miserable condition in the very house whence your goodness formerly redeemed him.”
“Arrested!” cries the doctor. “Then it must be for some very inconsiderable trifle.”
“I wish it was,” said Amelia; “but it is for no less than fifty pound.”
“Then,” cries the doctor, “he hath been disingenuous with me. He told me he did not owe ten pounds in the world for which he was liable to be sued.”
“I know not what to say,” cries Amelia. “Indeed, I am afraid to tell you the truth.”
“How, child?” said the doctor—“I hope you will never disguise it to any one, especially to me. Any prevarication, I promise you, will forfeit my friendship for ever.”
“I will tell you the whole,” cries Amelia, “and rely entirely on your goodness.” She then related the gaming story, not forgetting to set in the fullest light, and to lay the strongest emphasis on, his promise never to play again.
The doctor fetched a deep sigh when he had heard Amelia’s relation, and cried, “I am sorry, child, for the share you are to partake in your husband’s sufferings; but as for him, I really think he deserves no compassion. You say he hath promised never to play again, but I must tell you he hath broke his promise to me already; for I had heard he was formerly addicted to this vice, and had given him sufficient caution against it. You will consider, child, I am already pretty largely engaged for him, every farthing of which I am sensible I must pay. You know I would go to the utmost verge of prudence to serve you; but I must not exceed my ability, which is not very great; and I have several families on my hands who are by misfortune alone brought to want. I do assure you I cannot at present answer for such a sum as this without distressing my own circumstances.”
“Then Heaven have mercy upon us all!” cries Amelia, “for we have no other friend on earth: my husband is undone, and these poor little wretches must be starved.”
The doctor cast his eyes on the children, and then cried, “I hope not so. I told you I must distress my circumstances, and I will distress them this once on your account, and on the account of these poor little babes. But things must not go on any longer in this way. You must take an heroic resolution. I will hire a coach for you to-morrow morning which shall carry you all down to my parsonage-house. There you shall have my protection till something can be done for your husband; of which, to be plain with you, I at present see no likelihood.”