It was ever the
privilege of misfortune to be revered by him.--"Two days!" said he;
"and I have fared sumptuously every day!"--He was reaching to the
bell; she understood his meaning, and prevented him. "I beg, sir,"
said she, "that you would give yourself no more trouble about a
wretch who does not wish to live; but, at present, I could not eat a
bit; my stomach even rose at the last mouthful of that crust."--He
offered to call a chair, saying that he hoped a little rest would
relieve her.--He had one half-guinea left. "I am sorry," he said,
"that at present I should be able to make you an offer of no more
than this paltry sum."--She burst into tears: "Your generosity,
sir, is abused; to bestow it on me is to take it from the virtuous.
I have no title but misery to plead: misery of my own procuring."
"No more of that," answered Harley; "there is virtue in these tears;
let the fruit of them be virtue."--He rung, and ordered a chair.--
"Though I am the vilest of beings," said she, "I have not forgotten
every virtue; gratitude, I hope, I shall still have left, did I but
know who is my benefactor."--"My name is Harley."--"Could I ever
have an opportunity?"--"You shall, and a glorious one too! your
future conduct--but I do not mean to reproach you--if, I say--it
will be the noblest reward--I will do myself the pleasure of seeing
you again.
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