making any
answer. She returned in a minute, running to me with pen, ink, and
paper, in her hand, and desired me to make my own bill; "for she hoped,"
she said "I did not expect that her house was to be dirtied, and her
goods spoiled and consumed for nothing. The whole is but thirteen
shillings. Can gentlefolks lie a whole night at a public-house for less?
If they can I am sure it is time to give off being a landlady: but
pay me what you please; I would have people know that I value money as
little as other folks. But I was always a fool, as I says to my husband,
and never knows which side my bread is buttered of. And yet, to be sure,
your honor shall be my warning not to be bit so again. Some folks knows
better than other some how to make their bills. Candles! why yes, to be
sure; why should not travelers pay for candles? I am sure I pays for my
candles, and the chandler pays the king's majesty for them; and if he
did not I must, so as it comes to the same thing in the end. To be sure
I am out of sixteens at present, but these burn as white and as clear,
though not quite so large. I expects my chandler here soon, or I would
send to Portsmouth, if your honor was to stay any time longer. But when
folks stays only for a wind, you knows there can be no dependence on
such!" Here she put on a little slyness of aspect, and seemed willing to
submit to interruption. I interrupted her accordingly by throwing down
half a guinea, and declared I had no more English money, which was
indeed true; and, as she could not immediately change the thirty-six
shilling pieces, it put a final end to the dispute. Mrs. Francis soon
left the room, and we soon after left the house; nor would this good
woman see us or wish us a good voyage. I must not, however, quit this
place, where we had been so ill-treated, without doing it impartial
justice, and recording what may, with the strictest truth, be said in
its favor.

First, then, as to its situation, it is, I think, most delightful, and
in the most pleasant spot in the whole island. It is true it wants the
advantage of that beautiful river which leads from Newport to Cowes;
but the prospect here extending to the sea, and taking in Portsmouth,
Spithead, and St. Helen's, would be more than a recompense for the loss
of the Thames itself, even in the most delightful part of Berkshire or
Buckinghamshire, though another Denham, or another Pope, should unite in
celebrating it. For my own part, I confess