Good sirs, how my heart went pit-a-pat!
When I was a little kind to you, said he, in the summer-house, and you
carried yourself so foolishly upon it, as if I had intended to do you
great harm, did I not tell you you should take no notice of what passed
to any creature? and yet you have made a common talk of the matter, not
considering either my reputation, or your own.--I made a common talk of
it, sir! said I: I have nobody to talk to, hardly.

He interrupted me, and said, Hardly! you little equivocator! what do you
mean by hardly? Let me ask you, have not you told Mrs. Jervis for one?
Pray your honour, said I, all in agitation, let me go down; for it is
not for me to hold an argument with your honour. Equivocator, again!
said he, and took my hand, what do you talk of an argument? Is it
holding an argument with me to answer a plain question? Answer me what I
asked. O, good sir, said I, let me beg you will not urge me farther, for
fear I forget myself again, and be saucy.

Answer me then, I bid you, says he, Have you not told Mrs. Jervis? It
will be saucy in you if you don't answer me directly to what I ask. Sir,
said I, and fain would have pulled my hand away, perhaps I should be for
answering you by another question, and that would not become me. What is
it you would say? replies he; speak out.

Then, sir, said I, why should your honour be so angry I should tell Mrs.
Jervis, or any body else, what passed, if you intended no harm?

Well said, pretty innocent and artless! as Mrs. Jervis calls you, said
he; and is it thus you taunt and retort upon me, insolent as you are!
But still I will be answered directly to my question. Why then, sir,
said I, I will not tell a lie for the world: I did tell Mrs. Jervis; for
my heart was almost broken; but I opened not my mouth to any other. Very
well, boldface, said he, and equivocator again! You did not open your
mouth to any other; but did not you write to some other? Why, now, and
please your honour, said I, (for I was quite courageous just then,) you
could not have asked me this question, if you had not taken from me
my letter to my father and mother, in which I own I had broken my mind
freely to them, and asked their advice, and poured forth my griefs!

And so I am to be exposed, am I, said he, in my own house, and out of
my house, to the whole world, by such a sauce-box as you? No, good sir,
said I, and I hope your honour won't be angry with me; it is not I
that expose you,