servants are villains," cries Jones, "and abuse their lady unjustly.". Ay, to be sure, servants are always villains; and so my lady says, and won't hear a word of it."-" No, I am convinced," says Jones; my Sophia is above listening to such base scandal."- "Nay, I believe it is no scandal neither," cries Honour; "for why should she meet men at another house? It can never be for any good; for, if she had a lawful design of being courted,-as, to be sure, any lady may lawfully give her company to men upon that account,-why, where can be the sense"- "I protest," cries Jones, "I can't hear all this of a lady of such honour, and a relation of Sophia; besides, you will distract the poor lady in the next room. Let me entreat you to walk with me down stairs."-" Nay, sir, if you won't let me speak, I have done. Here, sir, is a letter from my young lady-what would some men give to have this? But, Mr Jones, I think you are not over and above generous; and yet I have heard some servants say-but, I am sure, you will do me the justice to own I never saw the colour of your money." Here Jones hastily took the letter, and, presently after, slipped five pieces into her hand. He then returned a thousand thanks to his dear Sophia in a whisper, and begged her to leave him to read her letter. She presently departed, not without expressing much grateful sense of his generosity.

"

Lady Bellaston now came from behind the curtain. How shall I describe her rage? Her tongue was at first incapable of utterance; but streams of fire darted from her eyes, and well indeed they might, for her heart was all in a flame. And now, as soon as her voice found way, instead of expressing any indignation against Honour or her own servants, she began to attack poor Jones. "You see," said she, "what I have sacrificed to you! my reputation, my honour, gone for ever! And what return have I found? Neglected, slighted for a country girl, for an idiot." "What neglect, madam, or what slight," cries Jones, "have I been guilty of ?"-" Mr Jones," said she, "it is in vain to dissemble; if you will make me easy, you must entirely give her up; and as a proof of your intention, shew me the letter."-"What letter, madam?" said Jones. Nay, surely," said she, "you cannot have the confidence to deny your having received a letter by the hands of that trollop ?"-" And can your ladyship," cries he, "ask of me what I must part with my honour before I grant? Have I acted in such a manner by your ladyship? Could I be guilty of betraying this poor innocent girl to you, what security could you have that I should not act the same part by your self? A moment's reflection will, I am sure, convince you, that a man with whom the secrets of a lady are not safe, must be the most contemptible of wretches." Very well," said she,"I need not insist on your becoming this con

temptible wretch in your own opinion; for the inside of the letter could inform me of nothing more than I know already. I see the footing you are upon."-Here ensued a long conversation, which the reader, who is not too curious, will thank me for not inserting at length. It shall suffice, therefore, to inform him, that Lady Bellaston grew more and more pacified, and, at length, believed, or affected to believe, his protestations-that his meeting with Sophia that evening was merely accidental, and every other matter which the reader already knows; and which, as Jones set before her in the strongest light, it is plain that she had in reality no reason to be angry with him.

She was not, however, in her heart, perfectly satisfied with his refusal to shew her the letter; so deaf are we to the clearest reason, when it argues against our prevailing passions. She was, indeed, well convinced, that Sophia possessed the first place in Jones's affections; and yet, haughty and amorous as this lady was, she submitted, at last, to bear the second place; or, to express it more properly in a legal phrase, was contented with the possession of that of which another woman had the reversion.

It was at length agreed, that Jones should, for the future, visit at the house; for that Sophia, her maid, and all the servants, would place these visits to the account of Sophia; and that she herself would be considered as the person imposed upon.

This scheme was contrived by the lady, and highly relished by Jones, who was indeed glad to have a prospect of seeing his Sophia at any rate; and the lady herself was not a little pleased with the imposition on Sophia, which Jones, she thought, could not possibly discover to her for his own sake.

The next day was appointed for the first visit, and then, after proper ceremonials, the Lady Bellaston returned home.

CHAP. III.

Containing various Matters.

JONES was no sooner alone, than he eagerly broke open his letter, and read as follows:

"Sir, it is impossible to express what I have suffered since you left this house; and as I have reason to think you intend coming here again, I have sent Honour, though so late at night, as she tells me she knows your lodgings, to prevent you. I charge you, by all the regard you have for me, not to think of visiting here; for it will certainly be discovered; nay, I almost doubt, from some things which have dropt from her ladyship, that she is not already without some suspicion. Something favourable, perhaps, may happen; we must wait with patience; but

I once more entreat, if you have any concern for my ease, do not think of returning hither."

This letter administered the same kind of consolation to poor Jones, which Job formerly received from his friends. Besides disappointing all the hopes which he promised to himself from seeing Sophia, he was reduced to an unhappy dilemma, with regard to Lady Bellaston; for there are some certain engagements, which, as he well knew, do very difficultly admit or any excuse for the failure; and to go, after the strict prohibition from Sophia, he was not to be forced by any human power. At length, after much deliberation, which during that night supplied the place of sleep, he determined to feign himself sick for this suggested itself as the only means of failing the appointed visit, without in censing Lady Bellaston, which he had more than one reason of desiring to avoid.

The first thing, however, which he did in the morning, was to write an answer to Sophia, which he inclosed in one to Honour. He then dispatched another to Lady Bellaston, containing the above mentioned excuse; and to this he soon received the following answer.

"I am vexed that I cannot see you here this afternoon, but more concerned for the occasion: take great care of yourself, and have the best advice, and I hope there will be no danger.-I am so tormented all this morning with fools, that I have scarce a moment's time to write to you. Adieu.

"P. S. I will endeavour to call on you this evening at nine.-Be sure to be alone."

Mr Jones now received a visit from Mrs Miller, who, after some formal introduction, began the following speech." I am very sorry, sir, to wait upon you on such an occasion; but I hope you will consider the ill consequence which it must be to the reputation of my poor girls, if my house should once be talked of as a house of ill fame. I hope you won't think me therefore guilty of impertinence, if I beg you not to bring any more ladies in at that time of night. The clock had struck two before one of them went away."-"I do assure you, madam," said Jones, "the lady who was here last night, and who staid the latest (for the other only brought me a letter,) is a woman of very great fashion, and my near relation."-I don't know what fashion she is of," answered Mrs Miller, "but I am sure no woman of virtue, unless a very near relation indeed, would visit a young gentleman at ten at night, and stay four hours in his room with him alone; besides, sir, the behaviour of her chairmen shews what she was; for they did nothing but make jests all the evening in the entry, and asked Mr Partridge, in the hearing of my own maid, if madam intended to stay with his mas

ter all night; with a great deal of stuff not proper to be repeated. I have really a great respect for you, Mr Jones, upon your own account; nay, I have a very high obligation to you for your generosity to my cousin. Indeed I did not know how very good you had been till lately. Little did I imagine to what dreadful courses the poor man's distress had driven him. Little did I think, when you gave me the ten guineas, that you had given them to a highwayman. O heavens! what goodness have you shewn! how have you preserved this family!-The character which Mr Allworthy hath formerly given me of you, was, I find, strictly true.-And indeed if I had no obligation to you, my obligations to him are such, that, on his account, I should shew you the utmost respect in my power.-Nay, believe me, dear Mr Jones, if my daughters and my own reputation were out of the case, I should, for your own sake, be sorry that so pretty a young gentleman should converse with these women; but if you are resolved to do it, I must beg you to take another lodging; for I do not myself like to have such things carried on under my roof; but more especially upon the account of my girls, who have little, Heaven knows, besides their characters, to recommend them.”Jones started, and changed colour at the name of Allworthy. "Indeed, Mrs Miller," answered he, a little warmly, "I do not take this at all kind. I will never bring any slander on your house; but I insist on seeing what company I please in my own room; and if that gives you any offence, I shall, as soon as I am able, look for another lodging."-"I am sorry we must part then, sir," said she, "but I am convinced Mr Allworthy himself would never come within my doors, if he had the least suspicion of my keeping an ill house."-" Very well, madam," said Jones.-" I hope, sir," said she, " you are not angry; for I would not for the world offend any of Mr Allworthy's family. I have not slept a wink all night about this matter."-" I am sorry I have disturbed your rest, madam," said Jones, "but I beg you will send Partridge up to me immediately;" which she promised to do, and then, with a very low courtesy, retired.

"How

As soon as Partridge arrived, Jones fell upon him in the most outrageous manner. often," said he," am I to suffer for your folly, or rather for my own in keeping you? Is that tongue of yours resolved upon my destruction?"

"

"What have I done, sir?" answered affrighted Partridge." Who was it that gave you authority to mention the story of the robbery, or that the man you saw here was the person? "I, sir?" cries Partridge.-"Now don't be guilty of a falsehood in denying it," said Jones."If I did mention such a matter," answers Partridge, "I am sure I thought no harm: for I should not have opened my lips, if it had not been to his own friends and relations, who, I imagined, would have let it go no farther."

would not have had you make love to her, as you have often done in my presence. I have been astonished at the blindness of her mother in never seeing it."-"Pooh, see it!" cries Nightingale, "what the devil should she see?""Why, see," said Jones, "that you have made her daughter distractedly in love with you. The poor girl cannot conceal it a moment; her eyes are never off from you, and she always colours every time you come into the room. Indeed, I pity her heartily; for she seems to be one of the best natured and honestest of human creatures." -" And so,” answered Nightingale, "according to your doctrine, one must not amuse one's self by any common gallantries with women, for fear they should fall in love with us?""Indeed, Jack," said Jones, " you wilfully misunderstand me; I do not fancy women are so apt to fall in love; but you have gone far beyond common gallantries." "What, do you suppose," says Nightingale, " that we have been abed together?"-"No, upon my honour," answered Jones, very seriously, "I do not suppose so ill of you; nay, I will go farther, I do not imagine you have laid a regular premeditated scheme for the destruction of the quiet of a poor little creature, or have even foreseen the consequence: for I am sure thou art a very good natured fellow; and such a one can never be guilty of a cruelty of that kind: but, at the same time, you have pleased your own vanity, without considering that this poor girl was made a sacrifice to it; and while you have no design but of amusing an idle hour, you have actually given her reason to flatter herself, that you had the most serious designs in her favour. Prithee, Jack, answer me honestly; to what have tended all those elegant and luscious descriptions of happiness arising from violent and mutual fondness; all those warm professions of tenderness, and generous and disinterested love? Did you imagine she would not apply them? Or, speak ingenuously, did not you intend she should?" "Upon my soul, Tom," cries Nightingale, "I did not think this was in thee. Thou wilt make an admirable parson. So I suppose you would not go to bed to Nancy, now, if she would let you?"-"No," cries Jones, "may I bed-n'd if I would."-" Tom, Tom," answered Nightingale, "last night! remember last night,

— When ev'ry eye was clos'd, and the pale moon, And silent stars, shone conscious of the theft."

"Look'ee, Mr Nightingale," said Jones, "I am no canting hypocrite, nor do I pretend to the gift of chastity more than my neighbours. I have been guilty with women, I own it; but am not conscious that I have ever injured any. Nor would I, to procure pleasure to myself, be know ingly the cause of misery to any human being." "Well, well," said Nightingale, "I believe

you, and I am convinced you acquit me of any such thing."

"I do, from my heart," answered Jones, " of having debauched the girl, but not from having gained her affections."

"If I have," said Nightingale, "I am sorry for it; but time and absence will soon wear off such impressions. It is a receipt I must take myself: for, to confess the truth to you, I never liked any girl half so much in my whole life; but I must let you into the whole secret, Tom. My father hath provided a match for me, with a woman I never saw; and she is now coming to town, in order for me to make my addresses to her."

At these words Jones burst into a loud fit of laughter; when Nightingale cried, "Nay, prithee, don't turn me into ridicule. The devil take me if I am not half mad about this matter! My poor Nancy! Oh, Jones, Jones, I wish I had a fortune in my own possession."

"I heartily wish you had," cries Jones; "for if this be the case, I sincerely pity you both; but surely you don't intend to go away without taking your leave of her?"

"I would not," answered Nightingale, "undergo the pain of taking leave for ten thousand pound; besides, I am convinced, instead of answering any good purpose, it would only serve to inflame my poor Nancy the more. I beg, therefore, you would not mention a word of it to-day, and in the evening, or to-morrow morning, I intend to depart."

Jones promised he would not; and said, upon reflection, he thought, as he had determined and was obliged to leave her, he took the most prudent method. He then told Nightingale, he should be very glad to lodge in the same house with him; and it was accordingly agreed between them that Nightingale should procure him either the ground floor or the two pair of stairs; for the young gentleman himself was to occupy that which was between them.

This Nightingale, of whom we shall be presently obliged to say a little more, was, in the ordinary transactions of life, a man of strict honour, and, what is more rare among young gentlemen of the town-one of strict honesty too; yet, in the affairs of love, he was somewhat loose in his morals; not that he was even here as void of principle as gentlemen sometimes are, and oftener affect to be; but it is certain he had been guilty of some indefensible treachery to women; and had, in a certain mystery, called making love, practised many deceits, which, if he had used in trade, he would have been counted the greatest villain upon earth.

But as the world, I know not well for what reason, agree to see this treachery in a better light, he was so far from being ashamed of his iniquities of this kind, that he gloried in them, and would often boast of his skill in gaining of

women, and his triumphs over their hearts, for which he had before this time received some rebukes from Jones, who always expressed great bitterness against any misbehaviour to the fair part of the species, who, if considered, he said, as they ought to be, in the light of the dearest friends, were to be cultivated, honoured, and caressed with the utmost love and tenderness; but if regarded as enemies, were a conquest of which a man ought rather to be ashamed than to value himself upon it.

CHAP. V.

A short Account of the History of Mrs Miller.

JONES this day ate a pretty good dinner for a sick man, that is to say, the larger half of a shoulder of mutton. In the afternoon he received an invitation from Mrs Miller to drink tea; for that good woman having learnt, either by means of Partridge, or by some other means, natural or supernatural, that he had a connection with Mr Allworthy, could not endure the thoughts of parting with him in an angry manner.

Jones accepted the invitation; and no sooner was the tea-kettle removed, and the girls sent out of the room, than the widow, without much preface, began as follows: "Well, there are very surprising things happen in this world; but certainly it is a wonderful business that I should have a relation of Mr Allworthy in my house, and never know any thing of the matter. Alas! sir, you little imagine what a friend that best of gentlemen hath been to me and mine. Yes, sir, I am not ashamed to own it; it is owing to his goodness that I did not long since perish for want, and leave my poor little wretches, two destitute, helpless, friendless orphans, to the care, or rather to the cruelty, of the world.

"You must know, sir, though I am now reduced to get my living by letting lodgings, I was born and bred a gentlewoman. My father was an officer of the army, and died in a considerable rank; but he lived up to his pay; and as that expired with him, his family, at his death, became beggars. We were three sisters. One of us had the good luck to die soon after of the small-pox; a lady was so kind as to take the second out of charity, as she said, to wait upon her. The mother of this lady had been a servant to my grandmother; and having inherited a vast fortune from her father, which he had got by pawn-broking, was married to a gentleman of great estate and fashion. She used my sister so barbarously-often upbraiding her with her birth and poverty, calling her in derision a gentlewoman, that I believe she at length broke the heart of the poor girl. In short, she likewise died within a twelvemonth after my father. Fortune thought proper to provide better for me, and

within a month from his decease I was married to a clergyman, who had been my lover a long time before, and who had been very ill used by my father on that account; for though my poor father could not give any of us a shilling, yet he bred us up as delicately, considered us, and would have had us consider ourselves as highly, as if we had been the richest heiresses. But my dear husband forgot all this usage; and the moment we were become fatherless, he immediately renewed his addresses to me so warmly, that I, who always liked, and now more than ever esteemed him, soon complied. Five years did I live in a state of perfect happiness with that best of men, till at last-Oh! cruel, cruel fortune, that ever separated us-that deprived me of the kindest of husbands, and my poor girls of the tenderest parent! O my poor girls! you never knew the blessing which ye lost. I am ashamed, Mr Jones, of this womanish weakness; but I shall never mention him without tears."-" I ought rather, madam," said Jones, " to be ashamed that I do not accompany you." "Well, sir," continued she, "I was now left a second time in a much worse condition than before; besides the terrible affliction I was to encounter, I had now two children to provide for; and was, if possible, more pennyless than ever, when that great, that good, that glorious man, Mr Allworthy, who had some little acquaintance with my husband, ac cidentally heard of my distress, and immediately writ this letter to me. Here, sir; here it is; I put it into my pocket to shew it you. This is the letter, sir; I must and will read it to you.

"MADAM,

"I heartily condole with you on your late grievous loss, which your own good sense, and the excellent lessons you must have learnt from the worthiest of men, will better enable you to bear, than any advice which I am capable of giving. Nor have I any doubt that you, whom I have heard to be the tenderest of mothers, will suffer any immoderate indulgence of grief to prevent you from discharging your duty to those poor infants, who now alone stand in need of your tenderness.

"However, as you must be supposed at present to be incapable of much worldly consideration, you will pardon my having ordered a person to wait on you, and to pay you twenty guineas, which I beg you will accept till I have the pleasure of seeing you; and believe me to be, madam," &c.

"This letter, sir, I received within a fortnight after the irreparable loss I have mentioned, and within a fortnight afterwards, Mr Allworthy,the blessed Mr Allworthy, came to pay me a visit, when he placed me in the house where you now see me gave me a large sum of money to furnish it, and settled an annuity of 60l. a-year