udy, and when I told him you desired him to dine with you in the
parlour as usual, he only said, 'Mrs. Amy, go to your lady, tell her to
dine when and where she pleases, and pray obey her as your lady; but let
her know from me that she has lost the tenderness I had for her as a
wife, by the little thought she had of her children.'"
Nothing could have shocked me more than the delivery of this message by
Amy. I, almost bathed in tears, went to him myself; found him in a
melancholy posture reading in Milton's "Paradise Regained." He looked at
me very sternly when I entered his study, told me he had nothing to say
to me at that time, and if I had a mind not to disturb him, I must leave
him for the present. "My lord," said I, "supposing all that has been
said by this girl was truth, what reason have you to be in this
unforgiving humour? What have I done to you to deserve this usage? Have
you found any fault with me since I had the happiness of being married
to you? Did you ever find me in any company that you did not approve of?
Have you any reason to think that I have wasted any of your substance?
If you have none of these things to allege against me, for heaven's sake
do not let us now make our lives unhappy, for my having had legitimate
children by a lawful husband, at a time that you think it no crime to
have had a natural son by me, which I had the most reason to repent of."
I spoke the latter part of these words with a small air of authority,
that he might think me the less guilty; but, I believe, he only looked
on what I had said as a piece of heroism; for he soon after delivered
himself in the following speech: "Madam, do you not think that you have
used me in a very deceitful manner? If you think that I have not had
that usage, I will, in a few words, prove the contrary. When first I
knew you, soon after the jeweller's death at Paris, you never mentioned,
in all that intricate affair I was engaged in for you, so much as your
having any children; that, as your circumstances then were, could have
done you no harm, but, on the contrary, it would have moved the
compassion of your bitter enemy the Jew, if he had any. Afterwards, when
I first saw you in London, and began to treat with you about marriage,
your children, which, to all prudent women, are the first things
provided for, were so far neglected as not to be spoken of, though mine
were mentioned to you; and as our fortunes were very considerable, yours
might ver
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