tempts with which they endeavoured to possess her against her husband; and I told Mr. Turner that I was so well satisfied in Mr. B's affection for me, and his wellknown honour, that I could not think myself obliged to any gentleman who should endeavour to give me a less opinion of either than I ought to have.

He then bluntly told me that the very party Mr. B—— was upon, was with the countess for one, and the Lord who had married her sister.

I said, I was glad he was in such good company, and wished him all manner of pleasure in it.

He hoped, he said, he might trust to my discretion, that I would not let Mr. B- know from whom I had the information; that indeed his motive in mentioning it to me was self-interest; for that he had presumed to make some overtures of an honourable nature to the countess, in his own behalf; which had been rejected since that masquerade night and that he hoped the prudent use I would make of the intimation might, somehow, be a means to break off that correspondence, before it was attended with bad consequences.

I told him coldly, though it stung me to the heart, that. I should not interfere in the matter at all: that I was fully assured of Mr. B's honour; and was sorry he, Mr. Turner, had so bad an opinion of a lady for whom he professed so high a consideration. And rising up, Will you excuse me, sir, that I cannot attend at all to such a subject as this; and think I ought not; and so must withdraw?

Only, madam, one word. He offered to take my hand, but I would not permit it-and then he swore a great oath, that he had told me his true and his only motive: and that letters had passed between the countess and Mr. B—; adding, that one day I would blame myself for not endeavouring to stifle a flame, that might now perhaps be kept under; but which, if it got head, would be of more fatal consequence to my repose than I at present imagined. -But, said he, I beg you'll keep it within your own breast;

else, from two such hasty spirits, as his and mine, it may possibly be attended with still worse consequences.

I will never, sir, enter into a subject that is not proper to be communicated, every tittle of it, to Mr. B—; and this must be my excuse for withdrawing. And away I went from him.

Your ladyship will judge with how uneasy a heart; which became more so, when I sat down to reflect upon what he had told me. But I was resolved to give it as little credit as I could, or that anything would come of it, till Mr. B's own behaviour should convince me, to my affliction, that I had some reason to be alarmed: so I opened not my lips about it, not even to Mrs. Jervis.

At Mr. B's return, I received him in my usual affectionate and unreserved manner; and he behaved himself to me with his accustomed goodness and kindness; or, at least, with so little difference, that had not Mr. Turner's officiousness made me more watchful, I should not have perceived it.

But next day a letter was brought by a footman for Mr. B. He was out: so John gave it to me. The superscription was a lady's writing: the seal, the dowager lady's, with a coronet. This gave me great uneasiness; and when Mr. B came in, I said, Here is a letter for you, sir; and from a lady too!

What then? said he, with quickness.

I was balked, and withdrew. For I saw him turn the seal about and about, as if he would see whether I had endeavoured to look into it.

He needed not to have been so afraid; for I would not have done such a thing, had I known my life was to depend upon it.

I went up, and could not help weeping at his quick answer: yet I did my endeavour to hide it, when he

came up.

Was not my girl a little inquisitive upon me just now? I spoke pleasantly, sir-but you were very quick on your girl.

'Tis my temper, my dear-you know I mean nothing. You should not mind it.

I should not, sir, if I had been used to it.

He looked at me with sternness-Do you doubt my honour, madam?

Madam! did you say, sir?-I won't take that word!— Dear sir, call it back-I won't be called madam!-Call me your girl, your rustic, your Pamela-call me anything

but madam!

My charmer! then; my life! my soul! will any of those do? and saluted me: But whatever you do, let me not see that you have any doubts of my honour to you.

The very mention of the word, dear sir, is a security to me; I want no other; I cannot doubt: But if you speak short to me, how shall I bear that?

He withdrew, speaking nothing of the contents of his letter; as I daresay he would, had the subject been such as he chose to mention to me.

We being alone, after supper, I took the liberty to ask him, Who was of his party to Oxford? He named the Viscountess and her lord, Mr. Howard and his daughter, Mr. Herbert and his lady: And I had a partner too, my dear, to represent you.

I am much obliged to the lady, sir, be she who she would.

Why, my dear, you are so engaged in your nursery! Then this was a sudden thing; as, you know, I told you. Nay, sir, as long as it was agreeable to you, I had nothing to do but to be pleased with it.

He watched my eyes, and the turn of my countenance -You look, Pamela, as if you'd be glad to return the lady thanks in person. Shall I engage her to visit you? She longs to see you.

Sir-sir-hesitated I-as you please-I can't be—I can't be-displeased

Displeased!-interrupted he: Why that word? and why that hesitation in your answer? You speak very volubly, my dear, when you're not moved.

Dear sir, said I, almost as quick as he was, why should I be moved? What occasion is there for it? I hope you have a better opinion of me, than

Than what, Pamela?-What would you say? I know you're a little jealous rogue, I know you are.

But, dear sir, why should you think of imputing jealousy to me on this score?-What a creature must I be, if you could not be abroad with a lady, but I must be jealous of you? No, sir, I have reason to rely upon your honour; and I do rely upon it; and

And what? Why, my dear, you are giving me assurances as if you thought the case required it!

Ah! thought I, so it does, I see too plainly, or apprehend I do; but I durst not say so, nor give him any hint about my informant; though now I was enough confirmed of the truth of what Mr. Turner had told me.

Yet I resolved, if possible, not to alter my conduct. But my frequent weepings, when by myself, could not be hid as I wished; my eyes not keeping my heart's counsel.

And this gives occasion to some of the stern words which I have mentioned above.

All that he further said at this time, was, with a negligent, yet a determined air-Well, Pamela, don't be doubtful of my honour. You know how much I love you. But one day or other, I shall gratify this lady's curiosity, and will bring her to pay you a visit, and you shall see you need not be ashamed of her acquaintance.-Whenever you please, sir-was all I cared to say farther; for I saw he was upon the catch, and looked steadfastly upon me whenever I moved my lips; and I am not a finished hypocrite, and he can read the lines of one's face, and the motions of one's heart, I think.

I am sure mine is a very uneasy one. But till I reflected, and weighed well the matter, it was worse; and my natural imperfection of this sort made me see a necessity to be the more watchful over myself, and to doubt my own prudence. And thus I reasoned, when he withdrew:

Here, thought I, I have had a greater proportion of happiness, without alloy, fallen to my share, than any of my sex; and I ought to be prepared for some trials.

'Tis true, this is of the sorest kind; 'tis worse than death itself to me, who had an opinion of the dear man's reformation, and prided myself not a little on that account. So that the blow is full upon my sore place. 'Tis on the side I could be the most easily penetrated. But Achilles could be touched only in his heel; and if he was to die by an enemy's hand, must not the arrow find out that only vulnerable place?-My jealousy is that place with me, as your ladyship observes; but it is seated deeper than the heel It is in my heart. The barbed dart has found that out, and there it sticks up to the very feathers.

Yet, thought I, I will take care that I do not exasperate him by upbraidings, when I should try to move him by patience and forbearance. For the breach of his duty cannot warrant the neglect of mine. My business is to reclaim, and not to provoke. And when, if it please God, this storm shall be overblown, let me not, by my present behaviour, leave any room for heartburnings; but like a skilful surgeon, so heal the wound to the bottom, though the operation be painful, that it may not fester and break out again with fresh violence, on future misunderstandings, if any shall happen.

He is a young gentleman, has been used to have his own will, thought I. This may be a permitted stumblingblock in his way, to make him stand the firmer when recovered. The lady may be unhappy that she cannot conquer her faulty love. They may both see their error, and stop short of crime. If not, he is a man of fine sense; he may run an undue length, but may reclaim; and then I shall be his superior, by my preserved virtue and duty, and have it in my power to forgive him, and so repay him some of those obligations which I shall never otherwise have it in my power to repay ;-nor indeed wish to have it in this way, if it please God to prevent it.

* See page 160.