ght a message from a person whom I trusted she had not
forgotten, he gave her a nod and walked downstairs. Perhaps there was a
severity in my countenance as I said, "Mary, I do not know whether,
after what I have seen, I ought to give the message; and the pleasure I
anticipated in meeting you again is destroyed by what I have now
witnessed. How disgraceful is it thus to play with a man's feelings--to
write to him, assuring him of your regard and constancy, and at the same
time encouraging another."

Mary hung down her head. "If I have done wrong, Mr Faithful," said
she, after a pause, "I have not wronged Tom; what I have written I
felt."

"If that is the case, why do you wrong another person? why encourage
another young man only to make him unhappy?"

"I have promised him nothing; but why does not Tom come back and look
after me? I can't mope here by myself; I have no one to keep company
with; my father is always away at the alehouse, and I must have somebody
to talk to. Besides, Tom is away, and may be away a long while, and
absence cures love in men, although it does not in women."

"It appears then, Mary, that you wish to have two strings to your bow,
in case of accident."

"Should the first string break, a second would be very acceptable,"
replied Mary. "But it is always this way," continued she, with
increasing warmth; "I never can be in a situation which is not right;
whenever I do anything which may appear improper, so certain do _you_
make your appearance when least expected and least wished for--as if you
were born to be my constant accuser."

"Does not your own conscience accuse you, Mary?"

"Mr Faithful," repeated she, very warmly, "you are not my father
confessor; but do as you please--write to Tom if you please, and tell
him all you have seen, and anything you may think--make him and make me
miserable and unhappy--do it, I pray. It will be a friendly act; and as
you are now a great man, you may persuade Tom that I am a jilt and a
good-for-nothing."

Here Mary laid her hands on the table and buried her face in them.

"I did not come here to be your censor, Mary; you are certainly at
liberty to act as you please, without my having any right to interfere;
but as Tom is my earliest and best friend, so far as his interests and
happiness are concerned, I shall carefully watch over them. We have
been so long together, and I am so well acquainted with all his
feelings, that I really believe that