"
"And do you not know where he lives?"
"No, ma'am," answered he; "yet some one else in the house may: I will
inquire."
Miss Beaufort bowed her head in token of acknowledgment, and sat
shivering with suspense until he returned, followed by another man.
"This person, ma'am," resumed he, "says he can tell you."
"Thank you, thank you!" cried Mary; then, blushing at her eagerness,
she stopped and drew back into the carriage.
"I cannot for certain," said the man, "but I know the girl very well
by sight who comes for the letters; and I have often seen her
standing at the door of a chandler's shop a good way down the lane. I
think it is No. 5, or 6. I sent a person there who came after the
same gentleman about a fortnight ago. I dare say he lives there."
Miss Beaufort's expectations sunk again, when she found that she had
nothing but a dare say to depend on; and giving half-a-crown to each
of her informers, she desired the coachman to drive as they would
direct him.
While the carriage drove down the lane, with a heart full of fears
she looked from side to side, almost believing she should know by
intuition the house which had contained Constantine. When the man
checked his horses, and her eyes fell on the little mean dwelling of
Mrs. Robson, she smothered a deep sigh.
"Can this be the house in which Constantine has lived? How
comfortless! And should it not," thought she, as the man got off the
box to inquire, "whither shall I go for information?"
The appearance of Mrs.
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