Emilius is challenged by Octavio as a rival in the love of Julia, and though he had never before heard of the lady, he soon becomes her lover in fact, and eventually marries her.  Emanuella escapes from the nunnery and wanders to a little provincial town where she bears a son to Emilius.  Berillia, who has been rusticated to a village near by in consequence of her amour, encounters her unfortunate friend by chance and runs away from her duenna to join her.  She persuades Emanuella to draw a large sum on Don Jabin, robs her, and goes to join her gallant.  The injured lady supports her child by mean drudgery until by chance she meets Emilius and his wife, who do all they can to comfort her.  But worn out by her afflictions, she dies of a broken heart, leaving her son to be adopted by his father.

Dr. Johnson might with equal truth have said to Mrs. Haywood as to the author of the “Memoirs of Miss Sydney Biddulph,” “I know not, Madam, that you have a right ...to make your readers suffer so much.”  Even the pathetic “History of Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy” has nothing to surpass the train of woes exhibited in this earlier tale.

In the same “soft” style are two novels, “The Unequal Conflict:  or, Nature Triumphant” (1725) and its sequel, “Fatal Fondness:  or, Love its own Opposer.”  The plot begins with the writer’s favorite situation.

Philenia, affianced to Coeurdemont, falls in love with Fillamour.  By the help of a confidant, Antonia, the lovers are enabled to arrange a plan of escape.  On the eve of the wedding Fillamour breaks into the house and, leaving his servants to bind and gag the father, flies immediately to his soul’s adored.

“He threw himself on his knees, as he approach’d the dear mistress of his soul, and with a voice and manner all soft and love-inspiring.—­Now madam, said he, if the adoring Fillamour is not unworthy the glory of your deliverance, I come to offer it, and to assure you, that not only this, but the service of my whole future life is entirely devoted to you.  The innocent Philenia had not presently the power of replying, the different emotions of love, and shame, fear, and joy, made such a confusion in her sentiments, that she could only look the meanings of them all:  Fillamour, however, found enough in this mute language to make him know, he was in as fair a way of happiness, as he cou’d wish; and returning her glances with others as languishing, as the most melting longing love cou’d teach the loveliest eyes in the world, they continued, for some moments, thus transmitting souls—­” until their confidant hurries them out of the house.