door.

Well, Mrs. Smith, with a grave air, I am heartily sorry Miss Harlowe is
abroad. You don't tell me where she is?

Indeed, Sir, I cannot.

You will not, you mean.--She could have no notion of my coming. I came
to town but last night. I have been very ill. She has almost broken my
heart by her cruelty. You know my story, I doubt not. Tell her, I must
go out of town to-morrow morning. But I will send my servant, to know if
she will favour me with one half-hour's conversation; for, as soon as I
get down, I shall set out for Dover, in my way to France, if I have not a
countermand from her, who has the sole disposal of my fate.

And so flinging down a Portugal six-and-thirty, I took Mr. Smith by the
hand, telling him, I was sorry we had not more time to be better
acquainted; and bidding farewell to honest Joseph, (who pursed up his
mouth as I passed by him, as if he thought his teeth still in jeopardy,)
and Mrs. Smith adieu, and to recommend me to her fair lodger, hummed an
air, and, the chair being come, whipt into it; the people about the door
seeming to be in good humour with me; one crying, a pleasant gentleman, I
warrant him! and away I was carried to White's, according to direction.

As soon as I came thither, I ordered Will. to go and change his clothes,
and to disguise himself by putting on his black wig, and keeping his
mouth shut; and then to dodge about Smith's, to inform himself of the
lady's motions.

***

I give thee this impudent account of myself, that thou mayest rave at me,
and call me hardened, and what thou wilt. For, in the first place, I,
who had been so lately ill, was glad I was alive; and then I was so
balked by my charmer's unexpected absence, and so ruffled by that, and by
the bluff treatment of father John, that I had no other way to avoid
being out of humour with all I met with. Moreover I was rejoiced to
find, by the lady's absence, and by her going out at six in the morning,
that it was impossible she should be so ill as thou representest her to
be; and this gave me still higher spirits. Then I know the sex always
love cheerful and humourous fellows. The dear creature herself used to
be pleased with my gay temper and lively manner; and had she been told
that I was blubbering for her in the back-shop, she would have despised
me still more than she does.

Furthermore, I was sensible that the people of the house must needs have
a terrible notion of me, as a savage, bl