icked things, it is no wonder he will speak
wicked words. May God keep me out of the way of them both!

Your dutiful DAUGHTER.

LETTER XIX

DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER,

Our John having an opportunity to go your way, I write again, and send
both letters at once. I can't say, yet, when I shall get away, nor how
I shall come, because Mrs. Jervis shewed my master the waistcoat I
am flowering for him, and he said, It looks well enough: I think the
creature had best stay till she has finished it.

There is some private talk carried on betwixt him and Mrs. Jervis,
that she don't tell me of; but yet she is very kind to me, and I don't
mistrust her at all. I should be very base if I did. But to be sure she
must oblige him, and keep all his lawful commands; and other, I dare
say, she won't keep: She is too good; and loves me too well; but she
must stay when I am gone, and so must get no ill will.

She has been at me again to ask to stay, and humble myself. But what
have I done, Mrs. Jervis? said I: If I have been a sauce-box, and a
bold-face, and a pert, and a creature, as he calls me, have I not had
reason? Do you think I should ever have forgot myself, if he had not
forgot to act as my master? Tell me from your own heart, dear Mrs.
Jervis, said I, if you think I could stay and be safe: What would you
think, or how would you act in my case?

My dear Pamela, said she, and kissed me, I don't know how I should act,
or what I should think. I hope I should act as you do. But I know nobody
else that would. My master is a fine gentleman; he has a great deal of
wit and sense, and is admired, as I know, by half a dozen ladies, who
would think themselves happy in his addresses. He has a noble estate;
and yet I believe he loves my good maiden, though his servant, better
than all the ladies in the land; and he has tried to overcome it,
because you are so much his inferior; and 'tis my opinion he finds he
can't; and that vexes his proud heart, and makes him resolve you shan't
stay; and so he speaks so cross to you, when he sees you by accident.

Well, but, Mrs. Jervis, said I, let me ask you, if he can stoop to like
such a poor girl as me, as perhaps he may, (for I have read of things
almost as strange, from great men to poor damsels,) What can it be
for?--He may condescend, perhaps, to think I may be good enough for his
harlot; and those things don't disgrace men that ruin poor women