Pamela, Or Virtue Rewarded

LETTER XXX

MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER,

I write again, though, may be, I shall bring it to you in my pocket: for

I shall have no writing, nor writing-time, I hope, when I come to you.

This is Wednesday morning, and I shall, I hope, set out to you to-morrow

morning; but I have had more trials and more vexations; but of another

complexion too a little, though all from the same quarter. Yesterday my master, after he came from hunting, sent for me. I went

with great terror: for I expected he would storm, and be in a fine

passion with me for my freedom of speech before: so I was resolved to

begin first, with submission, to disarm his anger; and I fell upon my

knees as soon as I saw him; and said, Good sir, let me beseech you, as

you hope to be forgiven yourself, and for the sake of my dear good lady

your mother, who recommended me to you with her last words, to forgive

me all my faults; and only grant me this favour, the last I shall ask

you, that you will let me depart your house with peace and quietness of

mind, that I may take such a leave of my dear fellow-servants as befits

me; and that my heart be not quite broken. He took me up, in a kinder manner than ever I had known; and he said,

Shut the door, Pamela, and come to me in my closet: I want to have a

little serious talk with you. How can I, sir, said I, how can I! and

wrung my hands. O pray, sir, let me go out of your presence, I beseech

you! By the God that made me, said he, I'll do you no harm. Shut the

parlour door, and come to me in my library. He then went into his closet, which is his library, and full of rich

pictures besides; a noble apartment, though called a closet, and next

the private garden, into which it has a door that opens. I shut the

parlour door, as he bid me; but stood at it irresolute. Place some

confidence in me, said he: Surely you may, when I have spoken thus

solemnly. So I crept towards him with trembling feet, and my heart

throbbing through my handkerchief. Come in, said he, when I bid you. I

did so. Pray, sir, said I, pity and spare me. I will, said he, as I hope

to be saved. He sat down upon a rich settee; and took hold of my hand,

and said, Don't doubt me, Pamela. From this moment I will no more

consider you as my servant: and I desire you'll not use me with

ingratitude for the kindness I am going to express towards you. This a

little emboldened me; and he said, holding both my hands between his,

You have too much wit and good sense not to discover, that I, in spite

of my heart, and all the pride of it, cannot but love you. Yes, look

up to me, my sweet-faced girl! I must say I love you; and have put on a

behaviour to you, that was much against my heart, in hopes to frighten

you from your reservedness. You see I own it ingenuously; and don't play

your sex upon me for it. I was unable to speak; and he, seeing me too much oppressed with

confusion to go on in that strain, said, Well, Pamela, let me know in

what situation of life is your father: I know he is a poor man; but is

he as low and as honest as he was when my mother took you? Then I could speak a little; and with a down look, (and I felt my face

glow like fire,) I said, Yes, sir, as poor and as honest too; and that

is my pride. Says he, I will do something for him, if it be not your

fault, and make all your family happy. All, sir, said I, he is happier

already than ever he can be, if his daughter's innocence is to be the

price of your favour: and I beg you will not speak to me on the only

side that can wound me. I have no design of that sort, said he. O sir,

said I, tell me not so, tell me not so!--'Tis easy, said he, for me to

be the making of your father, without injuring you. Well, sir, said I,

if this can be done, let me know how; and all I can do with innocence

shall be the study and practice of my life.--But, O! what can such a

poor creature as I do, and do my duty?--Said he, I would have you stay a

week or fortnight only, and behave yourself with kindness to me; I

stoop to beg it of you, and you shall see all shall turn out beyond your

expectation. I see, said he, you are going to answer otherwise than I

would have you; and I begin to be vexed I should thus meanly sue; and so

I will say, that your behaviour before honest Longman, when I used you

as I did, and you could so well have vindicated yourself, has quite

charmed me. And though I am not pleased with all you said yesterday,

while I was in the closet, yet you have moved me more to admire you than

before; and I am awakened to see more worthiness in you, than ever I

saw in any lady in the world. All the servants, from the highest to the

lowest, doat upon you, instead of envying you; and look upon you in so

superior a light, as speaks what you ought to be. I have seen more

of your letters than you imagine, (This surprised me!) and am quite

overcome with your charming manner of writing, so free, so easy, and

many of your sentiments so much above your years, and your sex; and all

put together, makes me, as I tell you, love you to extravagance. Now,

Pamela, when I have stooped to acknowledge all this, oblige me only

to stay another week or fortnight, to give me time to bring about some

certain affairs, and you shall see how much you may find your account in

it. I trembled to find my poor heart giving way.--O good sir, said I, spare

a poor girl that cannot look up to you, and speak. My heart is full;

and why should you wish to undo me?--Only oblige me, said he, to stay a

fortnight longer, and John shall carry word to your father, that I will

see him in the time, either here, or at the Swan in his village. O sir,

said I, my heart will burst; but, on my bended knees, I beg you to

let me go to-morrow, as I designed: and don't offer to tempt a poor

creature, whose whole will would be to do yours, if my virtue would

permit!--I shall permit it, said he; for I intend no injury to you, God

is my witness! Impossible! said I; I cannot, sir, believe you, after

what has passed: How many ways are there to undo poor creatures! Good

God, protect me this one time, and send me but to my dear father's

cot in safety!--Strange, d----d fate! said he, that when I speak so

solemnly, I can't be believed!--What should I believe, sir? said I, what

can I believe? What have you said, but that I am to stay a fortnight

longer? and what then is to become of me?--My pride of birth and fortune

(d--n them both! said he, since they cannot obtain credit with you, but

must add to your suspicions) will not let me descend all at once; and

I ask you but a fortnight's stay, that, after this declaration, I may

pacify those proud demands upon me. O how my heart throbbed! and I began (for I did not know what I did) to

say the Lord's prayer. None of your beads to me Pamela! said he; thou

art a perfect nun, I think. But I said aloud, with my eyes lifted up to heaven, Lead me not into

temptation: but deliver me from evil, O my good God! He hugged me in his

arms, and said, Well, my dear girl, then you stay this fortnight, and

you shall see what I will do for you--I'll leave you a moment, and walk

into the next room, to give you time to think of it, and to shew you I

have no design upon you. Well, this, I thought, did not look amiss. He went out, and I was tortured with twenty different doubts in a

minute; sometimes I thought that to stay a week or fortnight longer in

this house to obey him, while Mrs. Jervis was with me, could do no great

harm: But then, thought I, how do I know what I may be able to do? I

have withstood his anger; but may I not relent at his kindness?--How

shall I stand that.--Well, I hope, thought I, by the same protecting

grace in which I will always confide!--But, then, what has he promised?

Why, he will make my poor father and mother's life comfortable. O! said

I to myself, that is a rich thought; but let me not dwell upon it, for

fear I should indulge it to my ruin.--What can he do for me, poor girl

as I am!--What can his greatness stoop to! He talks, thought I, of his

pride of heart, and pride of condition; O these are in his head, and in

his heart too, or he would not confess them to me at such an instant.

Well then, thought I, this can be only to seduce me.--He has promised

nothing.--But I am to see what he will do, if I stay a fortnight; and

this fortnight, thought I again, is no such great matter; and I shall

see in a few days how he carries it.--But then, when I again reflected

upon this distance between him and me, and his now open declaration of

love, as he called it; and that after this he would talk with me on that

subject more plainly than ever, and I shall be less armed, may be,

to withstand him; and then I bethought myself, why, if he meant no

dishonour, he should not speak before Mrs. Jervis; and the odious

frightful closet came again into my head, and my narrow escape upon it;

and how easy it might be for him to send Mrs. Jervis and the maids out

of the way; and so that all the mischief he designed me might be brought

about in less than that time; I resolved to go away and trust all to

Providence, and nothing to myself. And how ought I to be thankful for

this resolution!--as you shall hear. But just as I have writ to this place, John sends me word, that he is

going this minute your way; and so I will send you so far as I have

written, and hope by to-morrow night, to ask your blessings, at your own

poor, but happy abode, and tell you the rest by word of mouth; and so I

rest, till then, and for ever, Your dutiful DAUGHTER.