name startled me: treated as I had always heard it, with the utmost contempt, I could not reconcile how such a one came to be the guest and companion of a lord; though I have since heard that men of that profession frequently receive those favours from the nobility, which are denied to persons of more unblemished characters.
'Wildly however, it is certain, had some notions of honour and good-nature; he assured me he would do all in his power to protect me; but added, that he had been very unfortunate of late, and that I must wait for a lucky chance, before he could afford me any supply.
'I staid at Bath all the time he was there: he visited me every day; but I lived on my own money till we came to town, when my time being very near, he brought me to the place you find me in, having, it seems, agreed with the woman of the house for a certain sum of money to support me during my lying-in, and keep the child as long as it should live. The miseries I have sustained during my abode with this old hag, would be too tedious to repeat. The only joy I have is, that the wretched infant died in three days after it's birth, so has escaped the woes which children thus exposed are doomed to bear. Wildly has taken his last leave of me, and I have wrote to an aunt, entreating her to endeavour to obtain my father's forgiveness. I pretended to her that I left L——e for no other reason than because I had an ardent desire to see London; and as I think nobody can reveal to him the true cause, have some hopes of not being utterly abandoned by him.'
Here this unfortunate creature finished her long narrative; and Miss Betsy saw her in too much affliction to express any thing that might increase it: she only thanked her for reposing a confidence in her; 'Which,' said she, 'may be of great service to me some time or other.'
Before they parted, Miss Forward said she had gone in debt to Mrs. Nightshade, for some few things she wanted, over and above what is generally allowed in such cases, and had been affronted by her for not being able to discharge it; therefore intreated Miss Betsy to lend her twenty shillings; on which the generous and sweet-tempered young lady immediately drew her purse, and after giving her the sum she demanded, put two guineas more into her hand. 'Be pleased to accept this,' said she; 'you may possibly want something after having paid your debt.' The other thanked her, and told her she doubted not but her aunt would send her something, and she would then repay it. 'I shall give myself no pain about that,' said Miss Betsy: and then took her leave, desiring she would let her know by a letter what success she had with her friends. Miss Forward told her she might depend not only on hearing from her, but seeing her again, as soon as she had any thing to acquaint her with.
CHAPTER XV
Brings many things on the carpet, highly pleasing to Miss Betsy, in their beginning, and no less perplexing to her in their consequences
The accounts of those many and dreadful misfortunes which the ill conduct of Miss Forward had drawn upon her, made Miss Betsy extremely pensive. 'It is strange,' said she to herself, 'that a woman cannot indulge in the liberty of conversing freely with a man, without being persuaded by him to do every thing he would have her.' She thought, however, that some excuse might be made for Miss Forward, on the score of her being strictly debarred from all acquaintance with the other sex. 'People,' cried she, 'have naturally an inclination to do what they are most forbid. The poor girl had a curiosity to hear herself addressed; and having no opportunity of gratifying that passion, but by admitting her lover at so odd a time and place, was indeed too much in his power to have withstood her ruin, even if she had been mistress of more courage and resolution than she was.'
On meditating on the follies which women are sometimes prevailed upon to be guilty of, the discovery she had made of Miss Flora's intrigue with Gayland came fresh into her mind. 'What,' said she, 'could induce her to sacrifice her honour? Declarations of love were not new to her. She heard every day the flatteries with which our sex are treated by the men, and needed not to have purchased the assiduities of any one of them at so dear a rate. Good God! are innocence, and the pride on conscious virtue, things of so little estimation, as to be thrown away for the trifling pleasure of hearing a few tender protestations? perhaps all false, and uttered by one whose heart despises the early fondness he has triumphed over, and ridicules the very grant of what he has so earnestly solicited!'
It is certain this young lady had the highest notions of honour and virtue; and whenever she gave herself time to reflect, looked on every thing that had a tendency to make an encroachment on them with the most extreme detestation; yet had the good-nature enough to pity those faults in others, she thought it impossible for her to be once guilty of herself.
But, amidst sentiments as noble and as generous as ever heart was possessed of, vanity, that foible of her soul, crept in, and would have it's share. She had never been thoroughly attacked in a dishonourable way, but by Gayland, and the gentleman-commoner at Oxford; both which she rebuffed with a becoming disdain. In this she secretly exulted, and had that dependence on her power of repelling all the efforts, come they in what shape soever, that should be made against her virtue, that she thought it beneath her to behave so as not to be in danger of incurring them.
How great a pity it is, that a mind endued with so many excellent qualities, and which had such exalted ideas of what is truly valuable in womankind, should be tainted with a frailty of so fatal a nature, as to expose her to temptations, which if she were not utterly undone, it must be owing rather to the interposition of her guardian angel, than to the strength of human reason: but of that hereafter. At present there were none had any base designs upon her: we must shew what success those gentlemen met with, who addressed her with the most pure and honourable intensions. Of this number we shall speak first of Mr. Trueworth and Mr. Staple; the one, as has been already said, strenuously recommended by her brother, the other by Mr. Goodman.
Mr. Staple had the good fortune (if it may be called so) to be the first of these two who had the opportunity of declaring his passion; the journey of the other to London having been retarded two days longer than he intended.
This gentleman having Mr. Goodman's leave, made a second visit at his house. Lady Mellasin and Miss Flora knowing on what business he was come, made an excuse for leaving him and Miss Betsy together. He made his addresses to her in the forms which lovers usually observe on the first declaration; and she replied to what he said, in a manner not to encourage him too much, nor yet to take from him all hope.
While they were discoursing, a footman came in, and told her a gentleman from Oxford desired to speak with her, having some commands from her brother to deliver to her. Mr. Staple supposing they had business, took his leave, and Mr. Trueworth (for it was he indeed) was introduced.
'Madam,' said he, saluting her with the utmost respect, 'I have many obligations to Mr. Thoughtless; but none which demands so large a portion of my gratitude, as the honour he has conferred upon me in presenting you with this letter.' To which she replied, that her brother must certainly have a great confidence in his goodness, to give him this trouble. With these words she took the letter out of his hand; and having obliged him to seat himself, 'You will pardon, Sir,' said she, 'the rudeness which my impatience to receive the commands of so near and dear a relation makes me guilty of.' He made no other answer to these words than a low bow; and she withdrew to a window, and found the contents of her brother's letter were these.
'To Miss Betsy Thoughtless.
My dear sister,
I shall leave Oxford to-morrow, in order to cross the country for the seat of Sir Ralph Trusty, as I suppose Mr. Goodman will inform you, I having wrote to him by the post: but the most valuable of my friends being going to London, and expressing a desire of renewing that acquaintance he had begun to commence with you here, I have taken the liberty of troubling him with the delivery of this to you. He is a gentleman whose merits you are yet a stranger to; but I have so good an opinion of your penetration, as to be confident a very little time will convince you that he is deserving all the esteem in your power to regard him with; in the mean time doubt not but you will receive him as a person whose success, in every thing, is much desired by him, who is, with the tenderest good wishes, dear sister, your most affectionate brother,
F.