I, too, have written a long letter, but will say one thing more; and
that is, that, in the midst of our poverty and misfortunes, we have
trusted in God's goodness, and been honest, and doubt not to be happy
hereafter, if we continue to be good, though our lot is hard here; but
the loss of our dear child's virtue would be a grief that we could not
bear, and would bring our grey hairs to the grave at once.
If, then, you love us, if you wish for God's blessing, and your own
future happiness, we both charge you to stand upon your guard: and,
if you find the least attempt made upon your virtue, be sure you leave
every thing behind you, and come away to us; for we had rather see you
all covered with rags, and even follow you to the churchyard, than
have it said, a child of ours preferred any worldly conveniences to her
virtue. We accept kindly your dutiful present; but, till we are out of pain,
cannot make use of it, for fear we should partake of the price of our
poor daughter's shame: so have laid it up in a rag among the thatch,
over the window, for a while, lest we should be robbed. With our
blessings, and our hearty prayers for you, we remain,
Your careful, but loving Father and Mother,
JOHN AND ELIZABETH ANDREWS.
Letter III
DEAR FATHER, I must needs say, your letter has filled me with trouble, for it has
made my heart, which was overflowing with gratitude for my master's
goodness, suspicious and fearful: and yet I hope I shall never find him
to act unworthy of his character; for what could he get by ruining such
a poor young creature as me? But that which gives me most trouble is,
that you seem to mistrust the honesty of your child. No, my dear father
and mother, be assured, that, by God's grace, I never will do any thing
that shall bring your grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. I will die a
thousand deaths, rather than be dishonest any way. Of that be assured,
and set your hearts at rest; for although I have lived above myself for
some time past, yet I can be content with rags and poverty, and bread
and water, and will embrace them, rather than forfeit my good name,
let who will be the tempter. And of this pray rest satisfied, and think
better of Your dutiful DAUGHTER till death.
My master continues to be very affable to me. As yet I see no cause to
fear any thing. Mrs. Jervis, the housekeeper, too, is very civil to
me, and I have the love of every body. Sure they can't all have designs
against me, because they are civil! I hope I shall always behave so as
to be respected by every one; and that nobody would do me more hurt than
I am sure I would do them. Our John so often goes your way, that I will
always get him to call, that you may hear from me, either by writing,
(for it brings my hand in,) or by word of mouth.