The 'squire had no sooner read the letter than he leaped from his chair, threw his pipe into the fire, and gave a loud huzza for joy. He then summoned his servants, called for his boots, and ordered the Chevalier and several other horses to be saddled, and that parson Supple should be imme. diately sent for. Having done this, he turned to his sister, caught her in his arms, and gave her a close embrace, saying, 'Zounds! you don't seem pleased; one would imagine you was sorry I 'have found the girl.'

'Brother,' answered she, 'the deepest politicians, 'who see to the bottom, discover often a very different aspect of affairs, from what swims on the 'surface. It is true, indeed, things do look rather 'less desperate than they did formerly in Holland, 'when Lewis the Fourteenth was at the gates of 'Amsterdam; but there is a delicacy required in 'this matter, which you will pardon me, brother, if I suspect you want. There is a decorum to be used with a woman of figure, such as lady Bellaston, brother, which requires a knowledge of the world superior, I am afraid, to yours.'

Sister,' cries the 'squire, 'I know you have no 'opinion of my parts; but I'll shew you on this occasion who is a fool. Knowledge, quotha! I have not been in the country so long without having some knowledge of warrants and the law of the land. I know I may take my own wher'ever I can find it. Shew me my own daughter, and if I don't know how to come at her, I'll 'suffer you to call me fool as long as I live. There 'be justices of peace in London, as well as in other 'places.'

I protest,' cries she, 'you make me tremble for the event of this matter, which, if you will pro'ceed by my advice, you may bring to so good an issue. Do you really imagine, brother, that the house of a woman of figure is to be attacked by warrants and brutal justices of the peace? I

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will inform you how to proceed. As soon as you 'arrive in town, and have got yourself into a decent dress (for indeed, brother, you have none at present fit to appear in), you must send your compliments to lady Bellaston, and desire leave to wait on her. When you are admitted to her presence, as you certainly will be, and have told her your story, and have made proper use of my name (for I think you just know one another only by sight, though you are relations), I am 'confident she will withdraw her protection from 'my niece, who hath certainly imposed upon her. This is the only method.-Justices of peace, in'deed! do you imagine any such event.can arrive to a woman of figure in a civilized nation?'

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'D-n their figures,' cries the 'squire; a pretty 'civilized nation, truly, where women are above 'the law. And what must I stand sending a par'cel of compliments to a confounded whore, that keeps away a daughter from her own natural father? I tell you, sister, I am not so ignorant as you think me.I know you would have 'women above the law, but it is all a lie; I heard 'his lordship say at Size, that no one is above the 'law. But this of yours is Hanover law, I suppose.' 'Mr. Western,' said she, I think you daily improve in ignorance.I protest you are grown an arrant bear.'

No more a bear than yourself, sister Western,' said the 'squire.-'Pox! you may talk of your ci'vility an you will, I am sure you never shew any to me. I am no bear, no, nor no dog neither, though I know somebody, that is something 'that begins with a b; but pox! I will shew you I have got more good manners than some 'folks.'

,

'Mr. Western,' answered the lady, 'you may say 'what you please, Je vous mesprise de tout mon cœur. I shall not therefore be angry. Besides, as my cousin, with that odious Irish name, justly

says, I have that regard for the honour and true 'interest of my family, and that concern for my niece, who is a part of it, that I have resolved to go to town myself upon this occasion; for indeed, indeed, brother, you are not a fit minister to be employed at a polite court.-Greenland -Greenland should always be the scene of the 'tramontane negociation.'

'I thank heaven,' cries the 'squire, I don't un'derstand you now. You are got to your Hanoverian linguo. However, I'll shew you I scorn to 'be behind-hand in civility with you; and as you are not angry for what I have said, so I am not angry for what you have said. Indeed I have always thought it a folly for relations to quarrel; and if they do now and then give a hasty word, why, people should give and take; for my part I never bear malice; and I take it very kind of you to go up to London; for I never was there but 'twice in my life, and then I did not stay above a 'fortnight at a time, and to be sure I can't be ex'pected to know much of the streets and the folks ' in that time. I never denied that you know'd all 'these matters better than I. For me to dispute that would be all as one, as for you to dispute the management of a pack of dogs, or the finding a hare sitting, with me.'-'Which I promise you,' says she, I never will.'- Well, and I promise you,' returned he, that I never will dispute "t'other.'

Here then a league was struck (to borrow a phrase from the lady) between the contending parties; and now the parson arriving, and the horses being ready, the 'squire departed, having promised his sister to follow her advice, and she prepared to follow him the next day.

But having communicated these matters to the parson on the road, they both agreed that the prescribed formalities might very well be dispensed

with; and the 'squire having changed his mind, proceeded in the manner we have already seen.

CHAP. VII.

In which various Misfortunes befel poor Jones. AFFAIRS were in the aforesaid situation when

Mrs. Honour arrived at Mrs. Miller's, and called Jones out from the company, as we have before seen, with whom, when she found herself alone, she began as follows:

O my dear Sir! how shall I get spirits to tell you; you are undone, Sir, and my poor lady's undone, and I am undone.' 'Hath any thing happened to Sophia?' cries Jones, staring like a madian. All that is bad,' cries Honour: 'O, I 'shall never get such another lady! O that I should ' ever live to see this day! At these words Jones turned pale as ashes, trembled and stammered; but Honour went on. O! Mr. Jones, I have lost my lady for ever.' 'How! what? for heaven's sake 'tell me.-O my dear Sophia !-You may well 'call her so,' said Honour; she was the dearest lady to me.-I shall never have such another place.'—————‘D—n your place,' cries Jones; 'where is? what! what is become of my Sophia?' 'Ay, to be sure,' cries she, servants may be d-n'd. "It signifies nothing what becomes of them, though they are turned away, and ruined ever so much. To be sure they are not flesh and blood like other people. No, to be sure, it signifies nothing what becomes of them. If you have any pity, any 'compassion,' cries Jones, I beg you will instantly 'tell me what hath happened to Sophia? To be

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sure I have more pity for you than you have for 'me,' answered Honour; 'I don't d-n you because have lost the sweetest lady in the world. To

' you

be sure you are worthy to be pitied, and I am worthy to be pitied too: for to be sure if ever there was a good mistress--' "What hath happened?' cries Jones, in almost a raving fit."What? What?' said Honour; 'why, the worst that could have happened both for you and for me. Her father is come to town, and hath 'carried her away from us both.' Here Jones fell on his knees in thanksgiving that it was no worse. -No worse!' repeated Honour, what could be 'worse for either of us? He carried her off, swearing she should marry Mr. Blifil; that's for your comfort; and for poor me, I am turned out of 'doors.' 'Indeed, Mrs. Honour, answered Jones, you frightened me out of my wits. I imagined some most dreadful sudden accident had hap'pened to Sophia; something, compared to which, 'even the seeing her married to Blifil would be a trifle; but while there is life, there are hopes, my ' dear Honour. Women in this land of liberty 'cannot be married by actual brutal force' To 'be sure, Sir,' said she, that's true. There may be some hopes for you; but alack-a-day! what hopes are there for poor me? And to be sure, Sir, you must be sensible I suffer all this upon your account. All the quarrel the 'squire hath to 'me is for taking your part, as I have done, against "Mr. Blitil.'Indeed, Mrs. Honour,' answered he, I am sensible of my obligations to you, and will leave nothing in my power undone to make you ' amends.' 'Alas! Sir, said she, what can make a servant amends for the loss of one place, but the getting another altogether as good!''Do not despair, Mrs. Honour,' said Jones, I hope 'to reinstate you again in the same.' 'Alack-a-day, Sir,' said she, how can I flatter myself with such hopes, when I know it is a thing impossible; for the 'squire is so set against me: and yet if you 'should ever have my lady, as to be sure I now hopes heartily you will; for you are a generous,