Pamela, Or Virtue Rewarded

I begged I might be permitted to be with her on nights; for I was afraid

of spirits, and they would not hurt such a good person as she. That

was a silly excuse, she said; for why was not you afraid of spirits

before?--(Indeed I did not think of that.) But you shall be my

bed-fellow with all my heart, added she, let your reason be what it

will; only come down to supper. I begged to be excused; for, said I,

I have been crying so, that it will be taken notice of by my

fellow-servants; and I will hide nothing from you, Mrs. Jervis, when we

are alone. She was so good to indulge me; but made haste to come up to bed; and

told the servants, that I should be with her, because she could not

rest well, and would get me to read her to sleep; for she knew I loved

reading, she said. When we were alone, I told her all that had passed; for I thought,

though he had bid me not, yet if he should come to know I had told, it

would be no worse; for to keep a secret of such a nature, would be, as

I apprehended, to deprive myself of the good advice which I never wanted

more; and might encourage him to think I did not resent it as I ought,

and would keep worse secrets, and so make him do worse by me. Was I

right, my dear mother?

Mrs. Jervis could not help mingling tears with my tears; for I cried all

the time I was telling her the story, and begged her to advise me what

to do; and I shewed her my dear father's two letters, and she praised

the honesty and editing of them, and said pleasing things to me of you

both. But she begged I would not think of leaving my service; for,

said she, in all likelihood, you behaved so virtuously, that he will

be ashamed of what he has done, and never offer the like to you again:

though, my dear Pamela, said she, I fear more for your prettiness than

for anything else; because the best man in the land might love you:

so she was pleased to say. She wished it was in her power to live

independent; then she would take a little private house, and I should

live with her like her daughter.

And so, as you ordered me to take her advice, I resolved to tarry to see

how things went, except he was to turn me away; although, in your first

letter, you ordered me to come away the moment I had any reason to be

apprehensive. So, dear father and mother, it is not disobedience, I

hope, that I stay; for I could not expect a blessing, or the good fruits

of your prayers for me, if I was disobedient.