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extremely strict and nice in her principles. He was likewise well apprised of the loquacity of this lady: and yet such was his gratitude, that it had almost got the better both of discretion and shame, and made him publish that which would have defamed his own character, rather than omit any circumstances which might do the fullest honour to his benefactor.

CHAPTER XI.

In which the reader will be surprised.

MR. Jones was rather earlier than the time appointed, and earlier than the lady; whose arrival was hindered, not only by the distance of the place where she dined, but by some other cross accidents, very vexatious to one in her situation of mind. He was accordingly shown into the drawing-room, where he had not been many minutes before the door opened, and in came▬▬ no other than Sophia herself, who had left the play before the end of the first act; for this, as we have already said, being a new play, at which two large parties met, the one to damn, and the other to applaud, a violent uproar, and an engage ment between the two parties, had so terrified our heroine, that she was glad to put herself under the protection of a young gentleman, who safely conveyed her to her chair.

As Lady Bellaston had acquainted her that she should not be at home till late, Sophia, expecting to find no one in the room, came hastily in, and went directly to a glass, which almost fronted her, without once looking towards the upper end of the room, where the statue of Jones now stood

motionless. In this glass it was, after contemplating her own lovely face, that she first discovered the statue; when instantly turning about, she perceived the reality of the vision: upon which she gave a violent scream, and scarce preserved herself from fainting, till Jones was able to move to her, and support her in his arms.

To paint the looks or thoughts of either of these lovers is beyond my power. As their sensations, from their mutual silence, may be judged to have been too big for their own utterance, it cannot be supposed that I should be able to express them; and the misfortune is, that few of my readers have been enough in love to feel by their own hearts what passed at this time in theirs.

After a short pause, Jones, with faltering accents, said—I see, madam, you are surprised. -Surprised! answered she; Oh, Heavens ! Indeed, I am surprised. I almost doubt whether you are the person you seem.-Indeed, cries he, my Sophia-pardon me, madam, for this once calling you so- I am that very wretched Jones, whom fortune, after so many disappointments, hath, at last, kindly conducted to you. Oh! my Sophia, did you know the thousand torments I have suf fered in this long, fruitless pursuit-Pursuit of whom? said Sophia, a little recollecting herself, and assuming a reserved air.-Can you be so cruel to ask that question? cries Jones. Need I say, of you? Of me! answered Sophia: hath Mr. Jones, then, any such important business with me? To some, madam, cries Jones, this might seem an important business (giving her the pocketbook.) I hope, madam, you will find it of the same value as when it was lost.-Sophia took the pocket-book, and was going to speak, when he interrupted her, thus:-Let us not, I

beseech you, lose one of these precious moments which fortune hath so kindly sent us. O my Sophia! I have business of a much superior kind. Thus, on my knees, let me ask your pardon. My pardon! cries she: Sure, sir, after what is passedyou cannot expect, after what I have heard.-I scarce know what I say, answered Jones. By Heavens! I scarce wish you should pardon me. my Sophia! henceforth never cast away a thought on such a wretch as I am. If any remembrance of me should ever intrude to give a moment's uneasiness to that tender bosom, think of my unworthiness; and let the remembrance of what passed at Upton blot me for ever from your mind.

Sophia stood trembling all this while. Her face was whiter than snow, and her heart was throbbing through her stays. But, at the mention of Upton, a blush arose in her cheeks, and her eyes, which before she had scarce lifted up, were turned upon Jones with a glance of disdain. He understood this silent reproach, and replied to it thus: O my Sophia! my only love! you cannot hate or despise me more for what happened there, than I do myself: but yet do me the justice to think, that my heart was never unfaithful to you that had no share in the folly I was guilty of: it was even then unalterably yours. Though I despaired of possessing you, nay, almost of ever seeing you more, I doated still on your charming idea, and could seriously love no other woman. But if my heart had not been engaged, she, into whose company I accidentally fell at that cursed place, was not an object of serious love. Believe me, my angel, I have never seen her from that day to this; and never intend, or desire, to see her again.-Sophia, in her heart, was very glad to hear this; but forcing into her face an air of more coldness

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than she had yet assumed, Why, said she, Mr. Jones, do you take the trouble to make a defence where you are not accused? If I thought it worth while to accuse you, I have a charge of an unpardonable nature indeed.-What is it, for Heaven's sake? answered Jones, trembling and pale, expecting to hear of his amour with Lady Bellaston. Oh, said she, how is it possible! Can every thing noble, and every thing base, be lodged together in the same bosom?-Lady Bellaston and the ignominious circumstance of having been kept, rose again in his mind, and stopped his mouth from any reply.-Could I have expected, proceeded Sophia, such treatment from you? Nay, from any gentleman, from any man of honour? To have my name traduced in public; in inns, among the meanest vulgar! To have any little favours that my unguarded heart may have too lightly be trayed me to grant, boasted of there! Nay, even to hear that you had been forced to fly from my love!

Nothing could equal Jones's surprise at these words of Sophia; but yet, not being guilty, he was much less embarrassed how to defend himself, than if she had touched that tender string, at which his conscience had been alarmed. By some examination he presently found, that her supposing him guilty of so shocking an outrage against his love, and her reputation, was entirely owing to Partridge's talk at the inns, before landlords and servants; for Sophia confessed to him, it was from them that she received her intelligence. He had no very great difficulty to make her believe that he was entirely innocent of an offence so foreign to his character; but she had a great deal to hinder him from going instantly home, and putting Partridge to death, which he more than once swore he would do. This

point being cleared up, they soon found themselves so well pleased with each other, that Jones quite forgot he had begun the conversation with conjuring her to give up all thoughts of him; and she was in a temper to have given ear to a petition of a very different nature: for before they were aware, they had both gone so far, that he let fall some words that sounded like a proposal of marriage. To which she replied, That, did not her duty to her father forbid her to follow her own inclinations, ruin with him would be more welcome to her, than the most affluent fortune with another man. At the mention of the word ruin, he started, let drop her hand, which he held for some time, and striking his breast with his own, cried out, Oh, Sophia! can I then ruin thee? No! by Heavens; no! I never will act so base a part. Dearest Sophia, whatever it costs me, I will renounce you; I will give you up: I will tear all such hopes from my heart as are inconsistent with your real good. My love I will ever retain, but it shall be in silence; it shall be at a distance from you; it shall be in some foreign land; from whence no voice, no sigh of my despair, shall ever reach and disturb your ears. And when I am dead- -He would have gone on, but was stopped by a flood of tears, which Sophia let fall in his bosom, upon which she leaned, without being able to speak one word. He kissed them off, which, for some moments, she allowed him to do without any resistance; but then, recollecting herself, gently withdrew out of his arms; and, to turn the discourse from a subject too tender, and which she found she could not support, bethought herself to ask him a question she never had time to put to him before How he came into that room? He began to stammer, and would, in all probability, have raised her suspicions by the answer he was