would not permit as an excuse.

I have done, said my master; nor did I meet you here to be angry with
you. Pamela knew not that she should see you: and now you are both
present, I would ask you, Mr. Williams, If, now you know my honourable
designs towards this good girl, you can really be almost, I will not say
quite, as well pleased with the friendship of my wife, as you could be
with the favour of Mrs. Andrews?

Sir, said he, I will answer you truly. I think I could have preferred,
with her, any condition that could have befallen me, had I considered
only myself. But, sir, I was very far from having any encouragement to
expect her favour; and I had much more reason to believe, that, if she
could have hoped for your goodness, her heart would have been too much
pre-engaged to think of any body else. And give me leave further to
say, sir, that, though I tell you sincerely my thoughts, were I only to
consider myself; yet, when I consider her good, and her merit, I should
be highly ungenerous, were it put to my choice, if I could not wish her
in a condition so much superior to what I could raise her to, and so
very answerable to her merit.

Pamela, said my master, you are obliged to Mr. Williams, and ought to
thank him: He has distinguished well. But, as for me, who had like to
have lost you by his means, I am glad the matter was not left to his
choice. Mr. Williams, added he, I give you Pamela's hand, because I know
it will be pleasing to her, in token of her friendship and esteem for
you; and I give you mine, that I will not be your enemy: but yet I must
say, that I think I owe this proper manner of your thinking more to your
disappointment, than to the generosity you talk of.

Mr. Williams kissed my hand, as my master gave it him; and my master
said, Sir, you will go home and dine with me, and I'll shew you my
little chapel; and do you, Pamela, look upon yourself at liberty to
number Mr. Williams in the list of your friends.

How generous, how noble, was this! Mr. Williams (and so had I) had tears
of pleasure in his eyes. I was silent: But Mr. Williams said, Sir, I
shall be taught, by your generosity, to think myself inexcusably wrong,
in every step I took, that could give you offence; and my future life
shall shew my respectful gratitude.

We walked on till we came to the coach, where was my dear father.
Pamela, said my master, tell Mr. Williams who that good man is. O, Mr.
Williams! said I, it is my dear father!