followed the man up stairs) "not know me, not remember the ruined
Charlotte Temple, who, but for you, perhaps might still have been
innocent, still have been happy. Oh! La Rue, this is beyond every thing
I could have believed possible."

"Upon my honour, Miss," replied the unfeeling woman with the utmost
effrontery, "this is a most unaccountable address: it is beyond my
comprehension. John," continued she, turning to the servant, "the
young woman is certainly out of her senses: do pray take her away, she
terrifies me to death."

"Oh God," cried Charlotte, clasping her hands in an agony, "this is too
much; what will become of me? but I will not leave you; they shall
not tear me from you; here on my knees I conjure you to save me from
perishing in the streets; if you really have forgot me, oh for charity's
sweet sake this night let me be sheltered from the winter's piercing
cold." The kneeling figure of Charlotte in her affecting situation might
have moved the heart of a stoic to compassion; but Mrs. Crayton remained
inflexible. In vain did Charlotte recount the time they had known each
other at Chichester, in vain mention their being in the same ship, in
vain were the names of Montraville and Belcour mentioned. Mrs. Crayton
could only say she was sorry for her imprudence, but could not think of
having her own reputation endangered by encouraging a woman of that kind
in her own house, besides she did not know what trouble and expense
she might bring upon her husband by giving shelter to a woman in her
situation.

"I can at least die here," said Charlotte, "I feel I cannot long
survive this dreadful conflict. Father of mercy, here let me finish
my existence." Her agonizing sensations overpowered her, and she fell