I believe, added he, the truth of the matter is very little known
or suspected; for, as her mother is of no mean family, her friends
endeavour to keep it secret, as much as I: and Lady Davers, till her
wrath boiled over, t'other day, has managed the matter very dexterously
and kindly. The words, mother is of no mean family, gave me not to doubt the poor
lady was living. And I said, But how, sir, can the dear miss's poor
mother be content to deny herself the enjoyment of so sweet a child?
Ah, Pamela, replied he, now you come in; I see you want to know what's
become of the poor mother. 'Tis natural enough you should; but I was
willing to see how the little suspense would operate upon you.--Dear
sir, said I.--Nay, replied he, 'tis very natural, my dear! I think you
have had a great deal of patience, and are come at this question so
fairly that you deserve to be answered.
You must know then, there is some foundation for saying, that her
mother, at least, lives in Jamaica; for there she does live, and very
happily too. For I must observe, that she suffered so much in child-bed,
that nobody expected her life; and this, when she was up, made such an
impression upon her, that she dreaded nothing so much as the thoughts of
returning to her former fault; and, to say the truth, I had intended to
make her a visit as soon as her month was well up. And so, unknown to
me, she engaged herself to go to Jamaica, with two young ladies, who
were born there; and were returning to their friends, after they had
been four years in England for their education: and, recommending to me,
by a very moving letter, her little baby, and that I would not suffer it
to be called by her name, but Goodwin, that her shame might be the less
known, for hers and her family's sake; she got her friends to assign
her five hundred pounds, in full of all her demands upon her family, and
went up to London, and embarked, with her companions, at Gravesend,
and so sailed to Jamaica; where she is since well and happily married,
passing to her husband for a young widow, with one daughter, which her
husband's friends take care of, and provide for. And so you see, Pamela,
that in the whole story on both sides, the truth is as much preserved as
possible.
Poor lady! said I; how her story moves me! I am glad she is so happy
at last!--And, my dear, said he, are you not glad she is so far off
too?--As to that, sir, said I, I cannot be sorry, to be sure, as she
is so happy; which she could not have been here. For, sir, I doubt you
would have proceeded with your temptations, if she had not gone; and
it shewed she was much in earnest to be good, that she could leave her
native country, leave all her relations, leave you, whom she so well
loved, leave her dear baby, and try a new fortune, in a new world, among
quite strangers, and hazard the seas; and all to preserve herself from
further guiltiness! Indeed, indeed, sir, said I, I bleed for what
her distresses must be, in this case I am grieved for her poor mind's
remorse, through her childbed terrors, which could have so great and so
worthy an effect upon her afterwards; and I honour her resolution; and
would rank such a returning dear lady in the class of those who are
most virtuous; and doubt not God Almighty's mercy to her; and that her
present happiness is the result of his gracious providence, blessing her
penitence and reformation.--But, sir, said I, did you not once see the
poor lady after her lying-in?