So now you have got rid of two mouths to feed, and have nobody to think of but yourself, which must be a great comfort.

Don't forget to write to Mr.Beaufort; and if he don't do something for you he's not the gentleman I take him for; but you are my own flesh and blood, and sha'n't starve; for, though I don't think it right in a man in business to encourage what's wrong, yet, when a person's down in the world, I think an ounce of hell is better than a pound of preaching.

My wife thinks otherwise, and wants to send you some tracts; but every body can't be as correct as some folks.

However, as I said before, that's neither here nor there.

Let me know when your boy comes down, and also about the measles, cowpock, and whooping-cough; also if all's right with Mr.Plaskwith.So now I hope you will feel more comfortable; and remain, "Dear Catherine, "Your forgiving and affectionate brother, "ROGER MORTON.
"High Street, N----, June 13." "P.S .-- Mrs.M.says that she will be a mother to your little boy, and that you had better mend up all his linen before you send him." As Catherine finished this epistle, she lifted her eyes and beheld Philip.