ht that both parties were extremely well pleased with a joke,
yet this was by no means the case.

Emilia imagined that, notwithstanding his affected surprise, her lover,
in spite of himself, had received the laugh at her expense, and in so
doing applauded his own unmannerly ridicule. This supposition could not
fail of raising and reviving her indignation, while Peregrine highly
resented the indignity, with which he supposed himself treated, in their
attempting to make him the dupe of such a gross and ludicrous artifice.
This being the situation of their thoughts, their mirth was succeeded by
a mutual gloominess of aspect; and the judge, addressing herself to Mr.
Pickle, asked if he had anything to offer why sentence should not be
pronounced? "Madam," answered the culprit, "I am sorry to find myself
so low in the opinion of your cousin as to be thought capable of being
deceived by such shallow contrivance."--"Nay, sir," said Emilia, "the
contrivance is your own; and I cannot help admiring your confidence in
imputing it to me."--"Upon my honour, Miss Emily, resumed our hero, "you
wrong my understanding, as well as my love, in accusing me of having
written such a silly, impertinent performance. The very appearance and
address of it is so unlike the letter which I did myself the honour
to write, that I dare say my man, even at this distance of time, will
remember the difference."

So saying, he extended his voice, and beckoned to Pipes, who immediately
drew near. His mistress seemed to object to the evidence, by observing
that to be sure Mr. Pipes had his cue; when Peregrine, begging she would
spare him the mortification of considering him in such a dishonourable
light, desired his valet to examine the outside of the letter, and
recollect if it was the same which he had delivered to Miss Gauntlet
about two years ago. Pipes, having taken a superficial view of it,
pulled up his breeches, saying, "Mayhap it is, but we have made so many
trips, and been in so many creeks and corners since that time, that I
can't pretend to be certain; for I neither keep journal nor log-book of
our proceedings." Emilia commended him for his candour, at the same
time darting a sarcastic look at his master, as if she thought he had
tampered with his servant's integrity in vain; and Peregrine began to
live and curse his fate for having subjected him to such mean suspicion,
attesting heaven and earth in the most earnest manner, that far from
having