if one may guess at them, by her being unable to tell me what they were; and then to vex him more, and to revenge herself, she said something like what was reported. And this was handle enough for her uncle, who took care to propagate it with an indiscretion peculiar to himself; for I heard of it in three different companies, before I knew anything of it from herself; and when I did, it was so repeated, as you, my dear, would hardly have censured her for it, the provocation considered.

Well; but then, dear sir, there is nothing at all amiss, at this rate, in the correspondence between my lady and you?

Not on her side, I daresay, if her ladyship can be excused to punctilio, and for having a greater esteem for a married man than he can deserve, or than may be strictly defended to a person of your purity and niceness.

Well, sir, this is very noble in you. I love to hear the gentlemen generous in points where the honour of our sex is concerned. But, pray, sir, what then was there on your side, in that matter, that made you give me so patient and so kind a hearing?

Now, my dear, you come to the point: At first it was, as I have said before, nothing in me but vanity, pride, and love of intrigue, to try my strength, where I had met with some encouragement, as I thought, at the masquerade; where the lady went farther too than she would have done, had she not thought I was a single man. For by what I have told you, Pamela, you will observe that she endeavoured to satisfy herself on that head, as soon as she well could. Mrs. Nelthorpe acquainted me afterwards, when we were better known to each other, that her lady was so partial in my favour (who can always govern their fancies, my dear?) as to think, so early as at the masquerade, that, if everything answered appearances, and that I were a single man, she, who has a noble and independent fortune, might possibly be induced to make me happy in her choice. Supposing then that I was unmarried, she left a signal for me in her handkerchief. I visited her; had the honour,

after the customary first shyness, of being well received by her; and continued my visits till perhaps she would have been glad I had not been married: but when she found I was, she avoided me, as I have told you, till the accident I mentioned threw us again upon cach other; which renewed our intimacy upon terms which you would think too inconsiderate on one side, and too designing on the other.

For myself, what can I say? Only that you gave me great disgusts (without cause, as I thought) by your unwonted reception of me: Ever in tears and grief; the countess ever cheerful and lively; and apprehending that your temper was entirely changing, I believed I had no bad excuse to endeavour to make myself easy and cheerful abroad, since my home became more irksome to me than ever I believed it could be. Then, as we naturally love those who love us, I had vanity, and some reason for my vanity (indeed all vain men believe they have), to think the countess had more than an indifference for me. She was so exasperated by the wrong methods taken with an independent lady of her generous spirit, to break off the acquaintance with me, that in revenge she denied me less than ever opportunities of her company. The pleasure we took in each other's conversation was reciprocal. The world's reports had united us in one common cause; and you, as I said, had made home less delightful to me than it used to be: What might not then have been apprehended from so many circumstances concurring with the lady's beauty and my frailty!

I waited on her to Tunbridge. She took a house there. Where people's tongues will take so much liberty, when they have no foundation for it at all, and where the utmost circumspection is used, what will they not say where so little of the latter is observed? No wonder then that terms were said to be agreed upon between us. From her uncle's story of polygamy, proposed by me, and seemingly agreed to by her, no wonder that all your Thomasine Fuller's information was surmised.

And thus stood the matter, when I was determined to give your cause for uneasiness a hearing, and to take my measures according to what should result from that hearing.

From this account, dear sir, said I, it will not be so difficult, as I was afraid it would be, to end this affair, even to her ladyship's satisfaction.

I hope not, my dear.

But if now, sir, the countess should still be desirous not to break with you; from so charming a lady, who knows what may happen?

Very true, Pamela: But, to make you still easier, I will tell you that her ladyship has a first cousin married to a person going with a public character to several of the Italian courts; and had it not been for my persuasions, she would have accepted of their earnest invitations, and passed a year or two in Italy, where she once resided for three years together, which makes her so perfect a mistress of Italian.

Now I will let her know, additionally to what I have written to her, the uneasiness I have given you, and so far as it is proper, what is come to your ears, and your generous account of her, and the charms of her person, of which she will not be a little proud; for she has really noble and generous sentiments, and thinks well (though her sister, in pleasantry, will have it, a little enviously) of you: And when I shall endeavour to persuade her to go, for the sake of her own character, to a place and country of which she was always fond, I am apt to think she will come into it; for she has a greater opinion of my judgment than it deserves. And I know a young lord, who may be easily persuaded to follow her thither, and bring her back his lady, if he can obtain her consent: and what say you, Pamela, to this?

Oh, sir! I believe I shall begin to love the lady dearly, and that is what I never thought I should. I hope this will be brought about.

But I see, give me leave to say, sir, how dangerously you

might have gone on, both you and the lady, under the notion of this Platonic love, till two precious souls might have been lost! And this shows one, as well in spirituals as temporals, from what slight beginnings the greatest mischiefs sometimes spring; and how easily at first a breach may be stopped, that, when neglected, the waves of passion will widen till they bear down all before them!

Your observation, my dear, is just, replied Mr. B—; and though I am confident the lady was more in earnest than myself in the notion of Platonic love, yet am I convinced, and always was, that Platonic love is Platonic nonsense. 'Tis the fly buzzing about the blaze, till its wings are scorched: or, to speak still stronger, it is a bait of the devil to catch the unexperienced and thoughtless. Nor ought such notions to be pretended to till the parties are five or ten years on the other side of their grand climacteric for age, old age, and nothing else, must establish the barriers to Platonic love. But, continued he, this was my comparative consolation, though a very bad one, that, had I swerved, I should not have given the only instance where persons, more scrupulous than I pretend to be, have begun friendships even with spiritual views, and ended them as grossly as I could have done, were the lady to have been as frail as her tempter.

He is

Here, madam, Mr. B finished his narrative. now set out for Tunbridge with all my papers. I have no doubt in his honour and kind assurances, and hope my next will be a joyful letter; and that I shall inform you in it, that the affair, which went so near my heart, is absolutely concluded to my satisfaction, to Mr. B's, and to the countess's; for if it be so to all three, my happiness, I doubt not, will be founded on a permanent basis. Meantime I am, my dear good lady,

Your most affectionate

And obliged sister and servant,

P. B.

LETTER LXXIX.

Mrs. B to Lady Davers.

A NEW misfortune, my dear lady-But this is of God Almighty's sending; so must bear it patiently. My dear baby is taken with the small-pox! To how many troubles are the happiest of us subjected in this life! One need not multiply them by one's own wilful mismanagements!—I am able to mind nothing else!

I had so much joy (as I told your ladyship in the beginning of my last letter but one) to see, on our arrival at the farmhouse, my dearest Mr. B—, my beloved baby, and my good father and mother, all upon one happy spot together, that I fear I was too proud. Yet I was truly thankful!—I am sure I was!-But I had, notwithstanding, too much pride, and too much pleasure, on this happy

occasion.

I told your ladyship, in my last, that your dear brother set out on Tuesday morning for Tunbridge with my papers, and I was longing to know the result, hoping that everything would be concluded to the satisfaction of all three : for, thought I, if this be so, my happiness must be permanent: but, alas! alas! there is nothing permanent in this life. I feel it by experience now!-I knew it before by theory! But that was not so near and so interesting by half.

For in the midst of all my pleasures and hopes; in the midst of my dear parents' joy and congratulations on our arrival, and on what had passed so happily since we were last here together (in the birth of the dear child, and my safety, for which they had been so apprehensive), the poor baby was taken ill. It was on that very Tuesday afternoon his papa set out for Tunbridge: but we knew not it would be the small-pox till Thursday. O madam! how are all the pleasures I had formed to myself sickened now upon me! for my Billy is very bad.