Ay, says he, that's her art, that I was speaking of: but, let me tell
you, the girl has vanity and conceit, and pride too, or I am mistaken;
and, perhaps, I could give you an instance of it. Sir, said she, you can
see farther than such a poor silly woman as I am; but I never saw any
thing but innocence in her--And virtue too, I'll warrant ye! said he.
But suppose I could give you an instance, where she has talked a little
too freely of the kindnesses that have been shewn her from a certain
quarter; and has had the vanity to impute a few kind words, uttered in
mere compassion to her youth and circumstances, into a design upon her,
and even dared to make free with names that she ought never to mention
but with reverence and gratitude; what would you say to that?--Say, sir!
said she, I cannot tell what to say. But I hope Pamela incapable of such
ingratitude. Well, no more of this silly girl, says he; you may only advise her,
as you are her friend, not to give herself too much licence upon the
favours she meets with; and if she stays here, that she will not write
the affairs of my family purely for an exercise to her pen, and her
invention.
I tell you she is a subtle, artful gipsy, and time will shew
it you. Was ever the like heard, my dear father and mother? It is plain he did
not expect to meet with such a repulse, and mistrusts that I have told
Mrs. Jervis, and has my long letter too, that I intended for you; and
so is vexed to the heart. But I can't help it. I had better be thought
artful and subtle, than be so, in his sense; and, as light as he makes
of the words virtue and innocence in me, he would have made a less angry
construction, had I less deserved that he should do so; for then, may
be, my crime should have been my virtue with him naughty gentleman as he
is! I will soon write again; but must now end with saying, that I am, and
shall always be, Your honest DAUGHTER.
LETTER XV
DEAR MOTHER,
I broke off abruptly my last letter; for I feared he was coming; and so
it happened. I put the letter in my bosom, and took up my work, which
lay by me; but I had so little of the artful, as he called it, that I
looked as confused as if I had been doing some great harm.