148 MEMOIR OF GEORGE WILSON. CHAP. III. 



don't ask the shelter of darkness. I have five arm-chairs, with 

 flaming yellow covers ; walls adorned with sewed samplers, por- 

 traits of Queen Mary and Eichard Coeur de Lion, and which is 

 a great deal better, a beautiful, unframed, fine engraving of one 

 of Gerhard Douw's pictures, not to mention an elegant looking- 

 glass, basin-stand, tumblers, glasses, etc. ; and a press, the key 

 of which I am promised, if I don't break the old lady's china. 

 In short, I want but one thing, as you will be pleased to mention 

 to , a housekeeper. You would have been greatly amused 

 at a conversation between Mrs. - , of Argyle Square, and me. 

 She is a kind, simple, affectionate woman ; and I at once ad- 

 dressed her, ' Well, Mrs. , I have taken up house for myself.' 

 ' Taken up house, Mr. Wilson ; is it possible ? You are not very 

 old.' ' No.' ' Have you really left your father's ?' ' Yes, ma'am, 

 I have got a house of my own/ said I, adding it was ' in a retired 

 part of the town, as we wished privacy ;' and I explained I had 

 been visiting it that day, getting the furniture (a few bottles) in. 

 ' Well/ said the good-mannered but wondering lady, ' you'll 

 need a housekeeper.' ' Of course/ said I ; ' whom do you re- 

 commend ?' and so on. A great deal of fun I got, laughing and 

 blushing for the last foolish thing I did, seeing two very nice 

 pretty young ladies, strangers to me, were listening to all this 

 nonsense. 'Well/ says Miss - , 'I won't be your house- 

 keeper.' Said I, ' You might have waited till you were asked. 

 I see there's been somebody here before me ;' and ended by in- 

 viting the ladies to visit me at my private residence. Explana- 

 tions, fun, nonsense, and laughter followed, and all enjoyed the 

 joke. I told them if they knew any young heiress, wishing 

 to be lady of a house, to send her to me ; I would know the 

 motive, and spare her feelings any questions. The promise was 

 made. Make you a similar one. I must close this long yepistle. 

 I shall write you in a few days, by a bearer whose face you will 

 be delighted to see." 



" GAYFIELD SQUARE, July 6, 1838. 



" In spite of lost time from several causes, arid at eleven 

 o'clock P.M., I begin, not on short glazed paper, but on long 

 foolscap (the foolscap seems to fit me), to write something. I 



