such a triumph in my heart! for I saw her blush and look down, and the dear gentleman seemed to eye me with a kind of conscious tenderness, as I thought. A silence of five minutes, I believe, succeeded, we all four looking upon one another: and the little dear was awake, and stared full upon me, with such innocent smiles, as if he promised to love me, and make me amends for all. I kissed him, and took his pretty little hand in mine -You are very good, my charmer, in this company! said I. I remembered, madam, a scene which made greatly for me in the papers you have seen,* when instead of recriminating, as I might have done, before Mr. Longman, for harsh usage (for, oh my lady! your dear brother has a hard heart, indeed he has, when he pleases), I only prayed for him on my knees. And I hope I was not now too mean; for I had dignity and a proud superiority in my vain heart, over them all.— Then it was not my part to be upon defiances, where I loved, and where I hoped to reclaim. Besides, what had I done by that, but justified, seemingly, by after-acts in a passionate resentment, to their minds, at least, their too wicked treatment of me? Moreover, your ladyship will remember that Mr. B- knew not that I was acquainted with his intrigue; for I must call it so.-If he had, he is too noble to insult me by such a visit; and he had told me I should see the lady he was at Oxford with. And this, breaking silence, he mentioned; saying, I gave you hope, my dear, that I should procure you the honour of a visit from a lady who put herself under my care at Oxford. I bowed my head to the countess; but my tears being ready to start, I kissed my Billy: Dearest baby! said I, you are not going to cry, are you?—I would have had him just then to cry, instead of me. The tea equipage was brought in. Polly, carry the child to nurse. I gave it another kiss, and the countess desired another. I grudged it, to think her naughty lips should so closely follow mine. Her sister kissed it also, and carried him to Mr. B. Take him away, Polly, said he : I owe him my blessing. Oh these young gentlemen papas! said the countess— they are like young unbroken horses, just put into the traces-Are they so? thought I.-Matrimony must not expect your good word, I doubt. Mr. B, after tea, at which I was far from being talkative (for I could not tell what to say, though I tried as much as I could not to appear sullen), desired the countess to play one tune upon the harpsichord. She did; and sung, at his request, an Italian song to it very prettily; too prettily, I thought. I wanted to find some faults, some great faults in her: but, O madam! she has too many outward excellences! Pity she wants a good heart! He could ask nothing that she was not ready to oblige him in Indeed he could not! She desired me to touch the keys. I would have been excused but could not. And the ladies commended my performance. But neither my heart to play, nor my fingers in playing, deserved their praises. Mr. B— said, indeed, You play better sometimes, my dear.—Do I, sir? was all the answer I made. The countess hoped, she said, I would return her visit, and so said the viscountess. I replied, Mr. B- would command me whenever he pleased. She said, She hoped to be better acquainted (I hope not, thought I)-and that I would give her my company for a week or so, upon the Forest. It seems she has a seat upon Windsor Forest. Mr. B says, added she, you can't ride a single horse; but we'll teach you there. 'Tis a sweet place for that purpose. How came Mr. B, thought I, to tell you that, madam? I suppose you know more of me than I do myself. Indeed, my lady, this may be too true; for she may know what is to become of me! I told her, I was very much obliged to her ladyship; and that Mr. B― directed all my motions. What say you, sir? said the countess. I can't promise that, madam; for Mrs. B- wants to go down to Kent, before we go to Bedfordshire, and I am afraid I can't give her my company thither. Then, sir, I shan't choose to go without you. I suppose not, my dear. But if you are disposed to oblige the countess for a week, as you never were at Windsor I believe, sir, interrupted I, what with my little nursery, and one thing or another, I must deny myself that honour, for this season. Well, madam, then I'll expect you in Pall-Mall. I bowed my head, and said, Mr. B- would command me. They took leave with a politeness natural to them. Mr. B——, as he handed them to the chariot, said something in Italian to the countess: the word Pamela was in what he said. She answered him with a downcast look, in the same language, half pleased, half serious, and the chariot drove away. I would give, said I, a good deal, sir, to know what her ladyship said to you; she looked with so particular a meaning, if I may so say. I'll tell you truly, Pamela: I said to her, Well now your ladyship has seen my Pamela-is she not the charmingest girl in the world? She answered, Mrs. B lady but I must needs say, is very grave, for so young a she is a lovely creature. And did you say so, sir? And did her ladyship so answer? And my heart was ready to leap out of my bosom for joy. But my folly spoiled all again; for, to my own surprise and great regret, I burst out into tears; though I even sobbed to have suppressed them, but could not! and so I lost a fine opportunity to have talked to him while he was so kind: for he was more angry with me than ever. What made me such a fool, I wonder! But I had so long struggled with myself; and not expecting so kind a question from the dear gentleman, or such a favourable answer from the countess, I had no longer any command of myself. What ails the little fool? said he, with a wrathful countenance. This made me worse: and he added, Take care, take care, Pamela!-You'll drive me from you in spite of my own heart. So he went into the best parlour, and put on his sword, and took his hat.-I followed him: Sir! sir! with my arms expanded, was all I could say; but he avoided me, putting on his hat with an air; and out he went, bidding Abraham follow him. This is the dilemma into which, as I hinted at the beginning of this letter, I have brought myself with Mr. B——. How strong, how prevalent, is the passion of jealousy and thus it will show itself uppermost, when it is uppermost, in spite of one's most watchful regards! My mind is so perplexed, that I must lay down my pen : And indeed your ladyship will wonder, all things considered, that I could write the above account as I have done, in this cruel suspense, and with such apprehensions. But writing is all the diversion I have, when my mind is oppressed. 'Tis a temporary relief; and this interview. was so interesting, that it took up a great deal of my attention while I wrote: But now I am come to a period of it (and so unhappy a one as has resulted from my ungoverned passion), my apprehensions are returned upon me with double strength. Why did I drive the dear gentleman from me upon such a promising appearance?-Why did I?-But all this had been prevented, had not this nasty Mr. Turner put into my head worse thoughts. For now I can say with the poet: Since knowledge is but sorrow's spy, 'Twere better not to know. How shall I do to look up to him now on his return! To be sure he plainly sees to what my emotion is owing! -Yet I dare not tell him either my information, or my informant; because, if he knows the one, he will know the other; and then what may be the consequence? Past ten o'clock at night. I have only time to tell your ladyship (for the postman waits) that Mr. B—— is just come in. He is gone into his closet, and has shut the door, and taken the key on the inside; so I dare not go to him there. In this uncertainty and suspense, pity and pray for Your ladyship's afflicted sister and servant, P. B.——. LETTER LXXIII. Mrs. B to Lady Davers. MY DEAR LADY,-I will now proceed with my melancholy account.-Not knowing what to do, and Mr. Bnot coming near me, and the clock striking twelve, I ventured to send this billet to him by Polly. 'DEAR SIR,-I know you choose not to be invaded 'when you retire into your closet; and yet being very uneasy on account of your abrupt departure and heavy 'displeasure, I take the liberty to write these few lines. I own, sir, that the sudden flow of tears which involuntarily burst from me, at your kind expressions to the ' countess in my favour, when I had thought, for more 'than a month past, you were angry with me, and which 'had distressed my weak mind beyond expression, might appear unaccountable to you. But had you kindly 6 |