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 show 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. Oh! 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; Oh 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 forever,

Your dutiful DAUGHTER.

LETTER XXXI.

DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER,-I will continue my writing still, because, may be, I shall like to read it, when I am with you, to see what dangers I have been enabled to escape; and though I bring it along with me.

I

I told you my resolution, my happy resolution, as I have reason to think it: and just then he came in again, with great kindness in his looks, and said, I make no doubt, Pamela, you will stay this fortnight to oblige me. knew not how to frame my words so as to deny, and yet not make him storm. But, said I, Forgive, sir, your poor distressed servant. I know I cannot possibly deserve any favour at your hands, consistent with virtue; and I beg you will let me go to my poor father. Why, said he, thou art the veriest fool that I ever knew. I tell you I will see your father; I'll send for him hither to-morrow, in my travelling chariot, if you will; and I'll let him know what I intend to do for him and you. What, sir, may I ask you, can that be? Your honour's noble estate may easily make him happy, and not unuseful, perhaps to you, in to you, in some respect or other. But what price am I to pay for all this?—You shall be happy as you can wish, said he, I do assure you: And here I will now give you this purse, in which are fifty guineas, which I will allow your father yearly, and find an employ suitable to his liking, to deserve that and more: Pamela, he shall never want, depend upon it. I would have given you still more for him, but that, perhaps, you'd suspect I intended it as a design upon you.—Oh sir, said

I, take back your guineas! I will not touch one, nor will my father, I am sure, till he knows what is to be done for them; and particularly what is to become of me. Why then, Pamela, said he, suppose I find a man of probity, and genteel calling, for a husband for you, that shall make you a gentlewoman as long as you live?—I want no husband, sir, said I; for now I began to see him in all his black colours! -Yet being so much in his power, I thought I would a little dissemble. But, said he, you are so pretty, that go where you will, you can never be free from the designs of some or other of our sex; and I shall think I don't answer the care of my dying mother for you, who committed you to me, if I don't provide you a husband to protect your virtue and your innocence; and a worthy one I have thought of for you.

Oh black, perfidious creature! thought I, what an implement art thou in the hands of Lucifer, to ruin the innocent heart!-Yet still I dissembled; for I feared much both him and the place I was in. But whom, pray, sir, have you thought of? Why, said he, young Mr. Williams, my chaplain, in Lincolnshire, who will make you happy. Does he know, sir, said I, anything of your honour's intentions?-No, my girl, said he, and kissed me (much against my will; for his very breath was now poison to me), but his dependence upon my favour, and your beauty and merit, will make him rejoice at my kindness to him. Well, sir, said I, then it is time enough to consider of this matter; and it cannot hinder me from going to my father's: for what will staying a fortnight longer signify to this? Your honour's care and goodness may extend to me there, as well as here; and Mr. Williams, and all the world, shall know that I am not ashamed of my father's poverty.

He would kiss me again, and I said, If I am to think of Mr. Williams, or anybody, I beg you'll not be so free with me: that is not pretty, I'm sure. Well, said he, but you stay this next fortnight, and in that time I'll have both Williams and your father here; for I will have the match concluded in my house; and when I have brought it on, you shall settle it as you please together. Meantime take and send only these

fifty pieces to your father, as an earnest of my favour, and I'll make you all happy.-Sir, said I, I beg at least two hours to consider of this. I shall, said he, be gone out in one hour; and I would have you write to your father what I propose; and John shall carry it on purpose; and he shall take the purse with him for the good old man, if you approve it. Sir, said I, I will then let you know in one hour my resolution. Do so, said he; and gave me another kiss, and let me go.

Oh how rejoiced I had got out of his clutches! So I write you this, that you may see how matters stand; for I am resolved to come away, if possible. Base, wicked, treacherous gentleman as he is!

So here was a trap laid for your poor Pamela! I tremble to think of it! Oh what a scene of wickedness was here laid down for all my wretched life! Blackhearted wretch! how I hate him!-For, at first, as you'll see by what I have written, le would have made me believe other things; and this of Mr. Williams, I suppose, came into his head after he walked out from his closet, to give himself time to think how to delude me better: but the covering was now too thin, and easy to be seen through.

I went to my chamber, and the first thing I did was to write to him; for I thought it was best not to see him again, if I could help it; and I put it under his parlour door, after I had copied it, as follows:

'HONOURED SIR,-Your last proposal to me convinces me, 'that I ought not to stay, but to go to my father, if it were 'but to ask his advice about Mr. Williams. And I am so set

upon it, that I am not to be persuaded. So, honoured sir, 'with a thousand thanks for all favours, I will set out to-mor'row early; and the honour you designed me, as Mrs. Jervis 'tells me of your chariot, there will be no occasion for: because 'I can hire, I believe, Farmer Brady's chaise. So, begging 'you will not take it amiss, I shall ever be

'Your dutiful Servant.

'As to the purse, sir, my poor father, to be sure, won't

'forgive me, if I take it, till he can know how to deserve 'it: which is impossible.'

So he has just now sent Mrs. Jervis to tell me that since I am resolved to go, go I may, and the travelling chariot shall be ready; but it shall be worse for me; for that he will never trouble himself about me as long as he lives. Well, so I get out of the house, I care not; only I should have been glad I could, with innocence, have made you, my dear parents happy.

I cannot imagine the reason of it, but John, who I thought was gone with my last, is but now going; and he sends to know if I have anything else to carry. So I break off to send you this with the former.

I am now preparing for my journey, and about taking leave of my good fellow-servants: and if I have not time to write, I must tell you the rest, when I am so happy as to be with you.

One word more: I slip in a paper of verses, on my going; sad poor stuff! but as they come from me, you'll not dislike them, may be. I showed them to Mrs. Jervis, and she liked them, and took a copy; and made me sing them to her, and in the green-room too; but I looked into the closet first. I will only add, that I am

Your dutiful DAUGHTER.

Let me just say, That he has this moment sent me five guineas by Mrs. Jervis, as a present for my pocket: So I shall be very rich; for as she brought them, I thought I might take them. He says he won't see me: and I may go when I will in the morning; and Linconlshire Robin shall drive me: but he is so angry, he orders that nobody shall go out at the door with me, not so much as into the coach-yard. Well! I can't help it, not I! But does not this expose himself more than me? But John waits, and I would have brought this and the

other myself; but he says, he has put it up among other things, and so can take both as well as one.