one by one; and when
it came to my turn to be recommended (for I was sobbing and crying at
her pillow) she could only say, "My dear son!" and so broke off a
little; and then recovering--"remember my poor Pamela!" and those were
some of her last words! O, how my eyes overflow! Don't wonder to see the
paper so blotted!

Well, but God's will must be done, and so comes the comfort, that I
shall not be obliged to return back to be a burden to my dear parents!
For my master said, "I will take care of you all, my good maidens; and
for you, Pamela (and took me by the hand before them all), for my dear
mother's sake I will be a friend to you, and you shall take care of my
linen." God bless him! and pray with me, my dear father and mother, for
a blessing upon him, for he has given mourning and a year's wages to all
my lady's servants; and I, having no wages as yet, my lady having said
she would do for me as I deserv'd, ordered the housekeeper to give me
mourning with the rest, and gave me with his own hand four guineas and
some silver, which were in my lady's pocket when she died; and said if I
was a good girl, and faithful and diligent, he would be a friend to me,
for his mother's sake. And so I send you these four guineas for your
comfort. I send them by John, our footman, who goes your way; but he
does not know what he carries; because I seal them up in one of the
little pill-boxes which my lady had, wrapp'd close in paper, that they
may not chink, and be sure don't open it before him.

Pray for your Pamela; who will ever be--

Your dutiful Daughter.

I have been scared out of my senses, for just now, as I was folding up
this letter in my lady's dressing-room, in comes my young master! Good
sirs, how I was frightened! I went to hide the letter in my bosom, and
he, seeing me tremble, said smiling, "To whom have you been writing,
Pamela?" I said, in my confusion, "Pray your honour, forgive me! Only to
my father and mother." "Well, then, let me see what a hand you write."
He took it without saying more, and read it quite through, and then gave
it me again. He was not angry, for he took me by the hand and said, "You
are a good girl to be kind to your aged father and mother; tho' you
ought to be wary what tales you send out of a family." And then he said,
"Why, Pamela, you write a pretty hand, and _spell_ very well, too. You
may look into any of my mother's books to improve yoursel