'I have brought you, Madam,' he said, 'to the house of a lady whose virtue and piety are well known.'
'Sir,' said the old lady, 'this house is well known for the piety of those who use it. And everybody knows that you are all goodness.'
'No,' said Mr. Penne; 'no man is good. We can but try our best. In this house, however, Madam, you will be safe. I beg and implore you not at present to stir abroad, for reasons which you very well know. This good woman has three or four daughters in the house, who are sometimes, I believe, merry——'
'Sir,' said the old lady, 'children will be foolish.'
'True, true,' he replied laughing. 'Take care, then, that they molest not Madam.'
'No, Sir; they shall not.'
'Then, Madam, for the moment I leave you. Rest and be easy in your mind. I have, I think, contrived a plan which will answer your case perfectly.'
In the evening he returned and sent me word, very ceremoniously, that he desired the favour of a conversation with me. As if there could be anything in the world that I desired more!
'Madam,' he said, 'I have considered carefully your case, and I can find but one advice to give.'
'What is it, Sir?'