always
in this way of late! What ails you, Pamela?"

"Only a little vapourish, Sir!--Don't be angry at me!--Billy, I
thought, was not very well!"

"This boy will spoil your temper: at this rate, what should be your
joy, will become your misfortune. Don't receive me in this manner, I
charge you."

"In what manner. Sir? I always receive you with a grateful heart! If
any thing troubles me, it is in your absence: but see, Sir" (then
I try to smile, and seem pleased), "I am all sunshine, now you are
come!--don't you see I am?"

"Yes, your sunshine of late is all through a cloud! I know not what's
the matter with you. Your temper will alter, and then--"

"It shan't alter, Sir--it shan't--if I can help it." And then I kissed
his hand; that dear hand, that, perhaps, was last about his more
beloved Countess's neck--Distracting reflection!

But come, may-be I think the worst! To be sure I do! For my
apprehensions were ever aforehand with events; and bad must be the
case, if it be worse than I think it.

You command me to let you know _what_ I have heard, and how I
_came_ to hear it. I told your ladyship in one of my former that two
gentlemen brought up to the law, but above the practice of it, though
I doubt, not above practices less honourable, had visited us on coming
to town.

They have been often here since, Mr. Turner particularly: and
sometimes by himself, when Mr. B. has happened to be out: and he it
was, as I guessed, that gave me, at the wicked masquerade, the advice
to look after my _Musidorus_.

I did not like their visits, and _his_ much less: for he seemed to be
a man of intriguing spirit. But about three weeks ago, Mr. B. setting
out upon a party of pleasure to Oxford, he came and pretended great
business with me. I was at breakfast in the parlour, only Polly
attending me, and admitted him, to drink a dish of chocolate with me.
When Polly had stept out, he told me, after many apologies, that he
had discovered who the nun was at the masquerade, that had engaged Mr.
B.

I said it was very indifferent to me who the lady was.

He replied (making still more apologies, and pretending great
reluctance to speak out), that it was no less a lady than the young
Countess Dowager of----, a lady noted for her wit and beauty, but of a
gay disposition, though he believed not yet culpable.

I was alarmed; but would not let him see it; and told Mr. Turner,
that I was so well satisfied in Mr. B.'s affection for me, an