CHAPTER XXIII
Chapter XXIII continues the lady’s first-person confession, in which she recounts how, after losing her benefactor and nearly exhausting his bounty, she resorted to imposture in order to survive. With the help of a female accomplice posing as her maid, she set herself up in genteel lodgings in Park Street, passed herself off as a wealthy heiress from the country, and nearly succeeded in securing a wealthy husband—until the unexpected appearance of her former keeper Horatio forced her to abandon the scheme. Pursued by creditors, she and her companion retreated by night, after which she descended into the streets, suffered brutal treatment, contracted a venereal disease, and was ultimately rescued from death by the narrator’s charity. The chapter closes with the narrator’s reflections on her misery, his successful efforts to restore her health, and their joint planning of a new life for her in country service.
The False Heiress
Alarmed at the prospect of bailiffs and debtors’ prison after her benefactor’s death and the near exhaustion of his bounty, the lady accepts a fellow sister’s scheme to take lodgings in an unfamiliar part of town and pass herself off as an heiress, hoping to entrap a husband able to maintain her or at least shield her from prison by assuming her debts. Her companion contributes her wardrobe and acts as her maid, sharing in the profits. They hire a genteel apartment in Park Street, and the lady makes her first appearance in a blue riding habit trimmed with silver. The ruse works: her fame as a rich heiress fresh from the country spreads through the neighbourhood within a day or two and attracts a swarm of suitors—though she soon finds them all to be indigent adventurers hoping to prey on her supposed fortune.
The Return of Horatio
After maintaining the appearance of wealth long enough to attract a more suitable admirer, the lady at last secures a man who would have satisfied her wishes, and the two fix a day for their nuptials. In the interim, her suitor begs leave to introduce an intimate friend; the lady cannot refuse, and the next night she is horrified to recognize in that friend her old keeper Horatio. He, too, starts at the sight of her, but has the presence of mind to step forward, salute her, and whisper an assurance that he will not expose her. Despite his promise, she cannot recover her composure enough to entertain the two men, and withdraws to her chamber on the pretext of a severe headache, leaving her adorer to take his leave in the tenderest manner and depart with his friend.
The Midnight Retreat
Having laid out the situation to her companion, the lady accepts that they must decamp quietly, as they are indebted both to their landlady and to several neighbourhood tradesmen. Their retreat is therefore carefully concerted: the companion packs all their clothes and moveables into small parcels, carries them out piecemeal under the pretext of fetching cordinals for the lady, and deposits them with an acquaintance who also provides a new lodging. The two women slip away in the middle of the night, while every other body in the house is asleep.
Entrapping the Narrator
Forced to aim at lower game, the lady spreads her nets among tradespeople but finds them all too phlegmatic or cautious for her arts. At last she becomes acquainted with the narrator, on whom she practises all her dexterity—not because she believes he has any fortune or expectation of her, but so that she may transfer the burden of her existing and future debts from herself to another, and at the same time revenge herself on his sex by rendering miserable a man who bears such a resemblance to the wretch who originally ruined her. Heaven, however, preserves him from her snares: the discovery is made owing to the negligence of her maid, who leaves the chamber-door unlocked when she goes to buy sugar for breakfast.
The original text of this work is in the public domain. This page focuses on a guided summary article, reading notes, selected quotes, and visual learning materials for educational purposes.