6 waited but one moment till this fit, which was rather 'owing to my gratitude than to perverseness, had been over (and I knew the time when you would have generously soothed it), I should have had the happiness of a more serene and favourable parting. 'Will you suffer me, sir, to attend you? (Polly shall 'wait your answer :) I dare not come without your permission; for should you be as angry as you were, I know not how I shall bear it. But if you say I may come down, I hope to satisfy you that I intended not any 'offence. Do, dear sir, permit me to attend you. 6 say no more, than that I am I can 'Your ever-dutiful 'P. B--.' Polly returned with the following.-So, thought I, a letter-I could have spared that, I am sure. I expected no favour from it. So tremblingly opened it. 'MY DEAR, I would not have you sit up for me. We are getting apace into the matrimonial recriminations. 'You knew the time!-So did I, my dear!-But it seems 'that time is over with both: and I have had the mortifi cation, for some past weeks, to come home to a very 'different Pamela than I used to leave all company and all pleasure for. I hope we shall better understand one 'another. But you cannot see me at present with any advantage to yourself; and I would not, that anything 'farther should pass, to add to the regrets of both. I wish you good rest. I will give your cause a fair hearing ' when I am more fit, than at present, to hear all your pleas ' and your excuses. I cannot be insensible that the reason 'for the concern you have lately shown, must lie deeper 'than perhaps you'll own at present. As soon as you are 6 prepared to speak all that is upon your mind, and I to 'hear it with temper, then we may come to an eclaircisse'ment. Till when, I am 'Your affectionate, &c.' My busy apprehension immediately suggested to me that I was to be terrified, with a high hand, into a compliance with some new scheme or other that was projecting. But I had resolved to make their way as clear to one another as was in my power, if they would have it so; and so I tried to allay my grief as much as I could; and it being near one, and hearing nothing from Mr. B—, I bid Polly go to bed, thinking she would wonder at our intercourse by letter, if I should send again. So down I ventured; my feet, however, trembling all the way, and tapped at the door of his closet. Who's that? I, sir: one word, if you please. Don't be more angry, however, sir. He opened the door. Thus poor Hester, to her royal husband, ventured her life, to break in upon him unbidden. But that eastern monarch, great as he was, extended to the fainting suppliant the golden sceptre ! He took my hand: I hope, my dear, by this tragedy speech, we are not to expect any sad catastrophe to our present misunderstanding. I hope not, sir. But 'tis all as God and you shall please. I am resolved to do my duty, sir, if possible. But indeed I cannot bear this cruel suspense! Let me know what is to become of me.-Let me know but what is designed for me, and you shall be sure of all the acquiescence that my duty and conscience can give to your pleasure. What means the dear creature? What means my Pamela ? -Surely your head, child, is a little affected! I can't tell, sir, but it may-But let me have my trial, that you write about. Appoint my day of hearing, and speedily too; for I would not bear such another month, as the last has been, for the world. Come, my dear, said he, let me attend you to your chamber. But your mind has taken much too solemn a turn, to enter further now upon this subject. Think as well of me, as I do of you, and I shall be as happy as ever. I wept-Be not angry, dear sir! Your kind words have just the same effect upon me now, as in the afternoon. Your apprehensions, my dear, must be very strong, that a kind word, as you call it, has such an effect upon you; but let us wave the subject for a few days, because I am to set out on a little journey at four, and had not intended to go to bed for so few hours. When we came up, I said, I was very bold, sir, to break in upon you; but I could not help it, if my life had been the forfeit and you received me with more goodness than I could have expected. But will you pardon me, if I ask, whither you go so soon? And if you intended to have gone without taking leave of me? I go to Tunbridge, my dear. I should have stept up, and taken leave of you before I went. Well, sir, I will not ask you who is of your party-I will not. No, putting my hand to his lips-don't tell me, sir: It mayn't be proper. Don't fear, my dear: I won't tell you: nor am I certain whether it be proper or not, till we are come to a better understanding.-Only, once more, think as well of me as I do of you. Would to Heaven, thought I, there was the same reason for the one as for the other! I intended (for my heart was full) to enter further into this subject, so fatal to my repose: but the dear gentleman had no sooner laid his head on the pillow, but he fell asleep, or feigned to do so, and that was as prohibitory to my talking, as if he had. So I had all my own entertaining reflections to myself; which gave me not one wink of sleep, .but made me of so much service to him, as to tell him when the clock struck four, that he should not (though I did not say so, you may think, madam) make my ready rivaless (for I doubted not her being one of the party) wait for him. He arose, and was dressed instantly; and saluting me, bid me be easy and happy, while it was yet in my own. power. He said, he should be back on Saturday night, as he believed. And I wished him, most fervently, I am sure! health, pleasure, and safety. Here, madam, must I end this letter. My next will perhaps contain my trial and my sentence. God give me but patience and resignation; and then, whatever occurs, I shall not be unhappy: especially while I can have, in the last resource, the pleasure of calling myself Your ladyship's most obliged Sister and servant, P. B LETTER LXXIV. Mrs. B to Lady Davers. MY DEAR LADY,-I will be preparing to write to you, as I have opportunity, not doubting but this present letter must be a long one; and having some apprehensions that, as things may fall out, I may want either head or heart to write to your ladyship, were I to defer it till the catastrophe of this cruel, cruel suspense. Oh what a happiness am I sunk from!-And in so few days too!-Oh the wicked, wicked masquerades! They shall be always followed with the execrations of an injured wife in me, who, but for that wretched diversion, had still been the happiest of her sex! But I was too secure! It was fit perhaps that I should be humbled and mortified; and I must try to make a virtue of the cruel necessity, and see if, by the divine grace, I cannot bring real good out of this appearing evil. The following letter, in a woman's hand, and signed, as you'll see, by a woman's name, and spelt as I spell it, will account to your ladyship for my beginning so heavily. It came by the penny-post. MADAME, I ame unknowne to yowe: but yowe are not so altogathar to mee, becaus I haue bene edefy'd by yowre pius behafior at church, whir I see yowe with plaisir everie sabbaoth day. I ame welle acquaintid with the famely of the Coumptesse of ; and yowe maie possiblie haue hard what yowe wishid not to haue hard concerninge hir. Butt this verie morninge, I can assur yowe, hir ladishippe gon with yowre spowse to Tonbrigge; and theire they are to take lodginges, or a hous; and Mr. B—— is after to come to towne, and settel matters to goe downe to hir, where they are to liue as man and wiffe. Make what use yowe pleas of thiss informasion; and belieue me to haue noe other motife, than to serue yowe, becaus of yowre vartues, whiche make yowe deserue a better retorne. I ame, thof I shall not sett my trewe name, is Yowre grete admirer and seruant, Wednesday morninge, 9 o'clocke. Just above I called my state, a state of cruel suspense ? But I recall the words: for now it is no longer suspense; since, if this letter says truth, I know the worst: And there is too much appearance that it does, let the writer be who it will, or his or her motive what it will; for, after all, I am apt to fancy this a contrivance of Mr. Turner's, though, for fear of ill consequences, I will not say so. And now, madam, I am endeavouring, by the help of religion and cool reflection, to bring my mind to bear this heavy evil, and to recollect what I was, and how much more honourable an estate I am in, than I could ever have expected to be in: and that my virtue and good name are secured; and I can return innocent to my dear father and mother: and these were once the only pride of my heart. Then, additional to what I was, at that time (and yet I pleased myself with my prospects, poor as they were), I have honest parents bountifully provided for, thank God |