r Mr.
Williams all to pieces, for pleading for me. I find he is to be forbid
the house, if she pleases. Poor gentleman! all his dependance is upon my
master, who has a very good living for him, if the incumbent die; and he
has kept his bed these four months, of old age and dropsy.

He pays me great respect, and I see pities me; and would, perhaps,
assist my escape from these dangers: But I have nobody to plead for me;
and why should I wish to ruin a poor gentleman, by engaging him against
his interest? Yet one would do any thing to preserve one's innocence;
and Providence would, perhaps, make it up to him!

O judge (but how shall you see what I write!) of my distracted
condition, to be reduced to such a pass as to a desire to lay traps for
mankind! But he wants sadly to say something to me, as he whisperingly
hinted.

The wretch (I think I will always call her the wretch henceforth) abuses
me more and more. I was but talking to one of the maids just now,
indeed a little to tamper with her by degrees: and she popt upon us,
and said--Nay, madam, don't offer to tempt poor innocent country maidens
from doing their duty. You wanted, I hear, she should take a walk with
you. But I charge you, Nan, never stir with her, nor obey her, without
letting me know it, in the smallest trifles.--I say, walk with you! and
where would you go, I tro'? Why, barbarous Mrs. Jewkes, said I, only to
look a little up the elm-walk, since you would not let me go to church.

Nan, said she, to shew me how much they were all in her power, pull
off madam's shoes, and bring them to me. I have taken care of her
others.--Indeed she shan't, said I.--Nay, said Nan, but I must if my
mistress bids me: so pray, madam, don't hinder me. And so indeed (would
you believe it?) she took my shoes off, and left me barefoot: and, for
my share, I have been so frighted at this, that I have not power even
to relieve my mind by my tears. I am quite stupefied to be sure!--Here I
was forced to leave off.

Now I will give you a picture of this wretch: She is a broad, squat,
pursy, fat thing, quite ugly, if any thing human can be so called; about
forty years old. She has a huge hand, and an arm as thick as my waist, I
believe. Her nose is flat and crooked, and her brows grow down over her
eyes; a dead spiteful, grey, goggling eye, to be sure she has. And her
face is flat and broad; and as to colour, looks like as if it had been
pickled a month in saltpetre: I dare say she