suppose it deserved, for my father and mother were both, though not
noble, well born, he did not rest satisfied with these attempts: he
wrote a tragedy, and, by the advice of people who pretended to have a
knowledge of such affairs, determined to go to London, that he might,
if possible, get it on the stage. From this my mother would fain have
dissuaded him, but his arguments and importunity at length prevailed.
He was then but nine and twenty, and I fourteen.

'I could ill describe to you the state of anxiety and suspence in
which his various literary efforts involved him, while he remained in
London: but in about two years he returned to the country, despairing
of that pleasure, profit, and fame, which hope had delusively taught
him to consider as his due. This was the period at which he once more
became an usher of the school where you were educated. This too was
the period at which my misfortunes began.

'And now, Mr. Trevor, I am coming to events in which you, without any
knowledge or interference of your own, may be said to be a partaker.'

She paused a moment: and I, with amazement, doubt, and increasing
ardour, requested she would proceed.

'The name of Wakefield must certainly be familiar to you?'

'It is: I am sorry to say it is the name my mother at present bears.'

'If you feel sorrow, Mr. Trevor, what must my feelings be? Mine! who,
had there been truth or honour in man, ought to have borne that name
myself. Mine! who, when I first heard of your mother's marriage,
should not have felt so severe a pang had a dagger been struck to my