runk within, where you will
find Letters from him to me in his own Hand; and from my own dear dead
Father too, Sir _Edward_, that gracious, that good Man! He shew'd us
both the Paths of Virtue: which I have not yet forsaken. Pray satisfy
me, Sir, and see the Truth! For your Satisfaction I will, Madam,
(said he) but I am now fully convinc'd that you have greater Beauties
within, than those I admire without. Saying this, he open'd the Trunk,
where he read a Line or two from her Father, and as many from her
Brother, which having again laid down, return'd to her, with this
Advice: I see, Madam, (said he) that you have Money there, and several
Things of Value, which I desire you to secure about you this Moment; for
I mean to deliver you out of this cursed Place, if you dare put any
Confidence in a Stranger, after your own Brother has acted the Part of
so great a Villain; if you dare trust a Stranger too, Madam, who had
himself a Design upon you; Heaven forgive me for it! but by all Things
sacred, I find my Error: I pity you, and I fear I shall love you. Do you
fear that, Sir? (said she) Why I love you dearly now, because I see you
are going to be good again; that is, you are going to be yourself again.
I hope, nay, I resolve I will, tho' it cost me my Life (said he.) Can
you submit, Madam, to attend on a young Lady of my Acquaintance here in
Town, 'till I can provide better for you? O I can be any Thing;
a Chamber-Maid, a Cook-Maid, a Scullion, what you shall think fit, tho'
never so mean, that is not naughty. Well, Madam, (said he) compose your
self then, and seem a little pleasant when I bring up that old Factoress
of Hell. I will endeavour it, Sir, she return'd; and he went down to the
Devil's chief Agent, to whom he said, that the poor Thing was at first
very uneasy, but that now she had consented to go along with him for an
Hour or two to some other Place, doubting your Secrecy; for she would
not have her Brother know it, as she calls him, for a thousand Worlds,
and more Money. Well, my Son, (reply'd old _Beldam_) you may take her
with you: But you remember your Bargain. O fie, Mother! (cry'd he) did
you ever know me false to you? No, no, you smock'd-fac'd Wag, (said she)
but be sure you bring her again to Night, for fear Sir _William_ should
come. Never doubt it! Come up with me, (cry'd he) you'll see a strange
Alteration, I believe. To _Philadelphia_ they came then, whom they found
walking about the Room, and looking so