Her dear friend! repeated Mrs. Bevis, when she told me this:—­such mischief-makers are always deemed dear friends till they are found out!

The widow says that I am the finest gentleman she ever beheld.

I have found a warm kiss now-and-then very kindly taken.

I might be a very wicked fellow, Jack, if I were to do all the mischief in my power.  But I am evermore for quitting a too-easy prey to reptile rakes!  What but difficulty, (though the lady is an angel,) engages me to so much perseverance here?—­And here, conquer or die! is now the determination!

***

I have just now parted with this honest widow.  She called upon me at my new lodgings.  I told her, that I saw I must be further obliged to her in the course of this difficult affair.  She must allow me to make her a handsome present when all was happily over.  But I desired that she would take no notice of what should pass between us, not even to her aunt; for that she, as I saw, was in the power of Miss Rawlins:  and Miss Rawlins, being a maiden gentlewoman, knew not the right and the fit in matrimonial matters, as she, my dear widow, did.

Very true:  How should she? said Mrs. Bevis, proud of knowing—­nothing!  But, for her part, she desired no present.  It was enough if she could contribute to reconcile man and wife, and disappoint mischief-makers.  She doubted not, that such an envious creature as Miss Howe was glad that Mrs. Lovelace had eloped—­jealousy and love was Old Nick!

See, Belford, how charmingly things work between me and my new acquaintance, the widow!—­Who knows, but that she may, after a little farther intimacy, (though I am banished the house on nights,) contrive a midnight visit for me to my spouse, when all is still and fast asleep?

Where can a woman be safe, who has once entered the lists with a contriving and intrepid lover?

But as to this letter, methinkest thou sayest, of Miss Howe?

I knew thou wouldest be uneasy for me.  But did not I tell thee that I had provided for every thing?  That I always took care to keep seals entire, and to preserve covers?* Was it not easy then, thinkest thou, to contrive a shorter letter out of a longer; and to copy the very words?

* See Letter XX. of this volume.

I can tell thee, it was so well ordered, that, not being suspected to have been in my hands, it was not easy to find me out.  Had it been my beloved’s hand, there would have been no imitating it for such a length.  Her delicate and even mind is seen in the very cut of her letters.  Miss Howe’s hand is no bad one, but it is not so equal and regular.  That little devil’s natural impatience hurrying on her fingers, gave, I suppose, from the beginning, her handwriting, as well as the rest of her, its fits and starts, and those peculiarities, which, like strong muscular lines in a face, neither the pen, nor the pencil, can miss.