you; for one is
naturally led to find out matters, where there is such privacy intended.
Well, said I, pray let me know what he has said; and then I'll give you
an answer to your curiosity. I don't care, said she, whether you do or
not for I have as much as I wanted from him; and I despair of getting
out of you any thing you ha'n't a mind I should know, my little cunning
dear.--Well, said I, let him have said what he would, I care not: for I
am sure he can say no harm of me; and so let us change the talk.

I was the easier, indeed, because, for all her pumps, she gave no hints
of the key and the door, etc. which, had he communicated to her, she
would not have forborne giving me a touch of.--And so we gave up one
another, as despairing to gain our ends of each other. But I am sure he
must have said more than he should.--And I am the more apprehensive all
is not right, because she has now been actually, these two hours, shut
up a writing; though she pretended she had given me up all her stores
of papers, etc. and that I should write for her. I begin to wish I had
ventured every thing and gone off, when I might. O when will this state
of doubt and uneasiness end!

She has just been with me, and says she shall send a messenger to
Bedfordshire; and he shall carry a letter of thanks for me, if I will
write it for my master's favour to me. Indeed, said I, I have no thanks
to give, till I am with my father and mother: and besides, I sent a
letter, as you know; but have had no answer to it. She said, she thought
that his letter to Mr. Williams was sufficient; and the least I could
do was to thank him, if but in two lines. No need of it, said I; for I
don't intend to have Mr. Williams: What then is that letter to me? Well,
said she, I see thou art quite unfathomable!

I don't like all this. O my foolish fears of bulls and robbers!--For now
all my uneasiness begins to double upon me. O what has this incautious
man said! That, no doubt, is the subject of her long letter.

I will close this day's writing, with just saying, that she is mighty
silent and reserved, to what she was: and says nothing but No, or Yes,
to what I ask. Something must be hatching, I doubt!--I the rather think
so, because I find she does not keep her word with me, about lying
by myself, and my money; to both which points she returned suspicious
answers, saying, as to the one, Why, you are mighty earnest for your
money; I shan't run away with it. And to th