as, that one of the
servants had told me that she had heard I was to be turned out, and
that it was not safe for the family that I should be any longer in the
house.

He smiled when he herd all this, and I asked him how he could make so
light of it, when he must needs know that if there was any discovery I
was undone for ever, and that even it would hurt him, though not ruin
him as it would me. I upbraided him, that he was like all the rest of
the sex, that, when they had the character and honour of a woman at
their mercy, oftentimes made it their jest, and at least looked upon it
as a trifle, and counted the ruin of those they had had their will of
as a thing of no value.

He saw me warm and serious, and he changed his style immediately; he
told me he was sorry I should have such a thought of him; that he had
never given me the least occasion for it, but had been as tender of my
reputation as he could be of his own; that he was sure our
correspondence had been managed with so much address, that not one
creature in the family had so much as a suspicion of it; that if he
smiled when I told him my thoughts, it was at the assurance he lately
received, that our understanding one another was not so much as known
or guessed at; and that when he had told me how much reason he had to
be easy, I should smile as he did, for he was very certain it would
give me a full satisfaction.

'This is a mystery I cannot understand,' says I, 'or how it should be
to my satisfaction that I am to be turned out of doors; for if our
correspondence is not discovered, I know not what else I have done to
change the countenances of the whole family to me, or to have them
treat me as they do now, who formerly used me with so much tenderness,
as if I had been one of their own children.'

'Why, look you, child,' says he, 'that they are uneasy about you, that
is true; but that they have the least suspicion of the case as it is,
and as it respects you and I, is so far from being true, that they
suspect my brother Robin; and, in short, they are fully persuaded he
makes love to you; nay, the fool has put it into their heads too
himself, for he is continually bantering them about it, and making a
jest of himself. I confess I think he is wrong to do so, because he
cannot but see it vexes them, and makes them unkind to you; but 'tis a
satisfaction to me, because of the assurance it gives me, that they do
not suspect me in the least, and I hope this wil