Pamela, Or Virtue Rewarded

'MRS. JEWKES, 'I have been so pressed on Williams's affair, that I shall set out this

afternoon, in Sir Simon's chariot, and with Parson Peters, who is his

intercessor, for Stamford; and shall not be back till to-morrow evening,

if then. As to your ward, I am thoroughly incensed against her: She has

withstood her time; and now, would she sign and seal to my articles, it

is too late. I shall discover something, perhaps, by him; and will, on

my return, let her know, that all her ensnaring loveliness shall not

save her from the fate that awaits her. But let her know nothing of

this, lest it put her fruitful mind upon plots and artifices. Be sure

trust her not without another with you at night, lest she venture the

window in her foolish rashness: for I shall require her at your hands. 'Yours, etc.'

I had but just finished taking a copy of this, and laid the letter where

I had it, and unbolted the door, when she came up in a great fright, for

fear I should have seen it; but I being in my closet, and that lying

as she left it, she did not mistrust. O, said she, I was afraid you had

seen my master's letter here, which I carelessly left on the table.

I wish, said I, I had known that. Why sure, said she, if you had, you

would not have offered to read my letters! Indeed, said I, I should, at

this time, if it had been in my way:--Do let me see it.--Well, said she,

I wish poor Mr. Williams well off: I understand my master is gone to

make up matters with him; which is very good. To be sure, added she, he

is a very good gentleman, and very forgiving!--Why, said I, as if I had

known nothing of the matter, how can he make up matters with him? Is not

Mr. Williams at Stamford? Yes, said she, I believe so; but Parson Peters

pleads for him, and he is gone with him to Stamford, and will not be

back to-night: so we have nothing to do, but to eat our suppers betimes,

and go to bed. Ay, that's pure, said I; and I shall have good rest this

night, I hope. So, said she, you might every night, but for your own

idle fears. You are afraid of your friends, when none are near you. Ay,

that's true, said I; for I have not one near me.

So I have one more good honest night before me: What the next may be I

know not, and so I'll try to take in a good deal of sleep, while I can

be a little easy. Therefore, here I say, Good night, my dear parents;

for I have no more to write about this night: and though his letter

shocks me, yet I will be as brisk as I can, that she mayn't suspect I

have seen it. Tuesday night. For the future, I will always mistrust most when appearances look

fairest. O your poor daughter! what has she not suffered since what I

wrote on Sunday night!--My worst trial, and my fearfullest danger! O how

I shudder to write you an account of this wicked interval of time! For,

my dear parents, will you not be too much frightened and affected with

my distress, when I tell you, that his journey to Stamford was all

abominable pretence! for he came home privately, and had well nigh

effected all his vile purposes, and the ruin of your poor daughter! and

that by such a plot as I was not in the least apprehensive of: And,

oh! you'll hear what a vile and unwomanly part that wicked wretch, Mrs.

Jewkes, acted in it! I left off with letting you know how much I was pleased that I had one

night's reprieve added to my honesty. But I had less occasion to rejoice

than ever, as you will judge by what I have said already. Take, then,

the dreadful story, as well as I can relate it.