Your dutiful DAUGHTER.
Oh! I forgot to say, that I would stay to finish the waistcoat, if I
might with safety. Mrs. Jervis tells me I certainly may. I never did a
prettier piece of work; and I am up early and late to get it over; for I
long to be with you.
LETTER XX
DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER,
I did not send my last letters so soon as I hoped, because John (whether
my master mistrusts or no, I can't say) had been sent to Lady Davers's
instead of Isaac, who used to go; and I could not be so free with, nor
so well trust Isaac; though he is very civil to me too. So I was forced
to stay till John returned.
As I may not have opportunity to send again soon, and yet, as I know you
keep my letters, and read them over and over, (so John told me,) when
you have done work, (so much does your kindness make you love all that
comes from your poor daughter,) and as it may be some little pleasure to
me, perhaps, to read them myself, when I am come to you, to remind me of
what I have gone through, and how great God's goodness has been to me,
(which, I hope, will further strengthen my good resolutions, that I may
not hereafter, from my bad conduct, have reason to condemn myself from
my own hand as it were): For all these reasons, I say, I will write as I
have time, and as matters happen, and send the scribble to you as I have
opportunity; and if I don't every time, in form, subscribe as I ought,
I am sure you will always believe, that it is not for want of duty. So I
will begin where I left off, about the talk between Mrs. Jervis and me,
for me to ask to stay. Unknown to Mrs. Jervis, I put a project, as I may call it, in practice.
I thought with myself some days ago, Here I shall go home to my poor
father and mother, and have nothing on my back, that will be fit for
my condition; for how should your poor daughter look with a silk
night-gown, silken petticoats, cambric head-clothes, fine holland linen,
laced shoes that were my lady's; and fine stockings! And how in a little
while must these have looked, like old cast-offs, indeed, and I looked
so for wearing them! And people would have said, (for poor folks are
envious as well as rich,) See there Goody Andrews's daughter, turned
home from her fine place! What a tawdry figure she makes! And how well
that garb becomes her poor parents' circumstances!--And how would
they look upon me, thought I to myself, when they should come to be
threadbare and worn out? And how should I look, even if I could purchase
homespun clothes, to dwindle into them one by one, as I got them?--May
be, an old silk gown, and a linsey-woolsey petticoat, and the like. So,
thought I, I had better get myself at once equipped in the dress that
will become my condition; and though it may look but poor to what I have
been used to wear of late days, yet it will serve me, when I am with
you, for a good holiday and Sunday suit; and what, by a blessing on my
industry, I may, perhaps, make shift to keep up to.