As soon as he was gone, my wife gave the opinion that it was a most fortunate hit, and hoped again to see the day in which we might hold up our heads with the best of them.

“For my part,” cried Olivia, “I don’t like him, he is so extremely impudent and familiar.”  I interpreted this speech by contrary, and found that Olivia secretly admired him.

“To confess the truth,” said I, “he has not prepossessed me in his favour.  I had heard that he was particularly remarkable for faithlessness to the fair sex.”

A few days afterwards we entertained our young landlord at dinner, and it may be easily supposed what provisions were exhausted to make an appearance.  As he directed his looks and conversation to Olivia, it was no longer doubted but that she was the object that induced him to be our visitor; and my wife exulted in her daughter’s victory as if it were her own.

On one evening Mr. Thornhill came with two young ladies, richly dressed, whom he introduced as women of very great distinction and fashion from town.  The two ladies threw my girls quite into the shade, for they would talk of nothing but high life and high-lived company.  ’Tis true, they once or twice mortified us sensibly by slipping out an oath; their finery, however, threw a veil over any grossness in their conversation.

I now began to find that all my long and painful lectures upon temperance, simplicity, and contentment were entirely disregarded.  The distinctions lately paid us by our betters awakened that pride which I had laid asleep, but not removed.  When the two ladies of quality showed a willingness to take our girls to town with them as companions, my wife was overjoyed at our good fortune.  But Mr. Burchell, who had at first been a welcome guest at our house, but had become less welcome since we had been favoured with the company of persons of superior station, dissuaded her with great ardour, and so angered her that she ended by asking him to stay away.

Returning home one day, I found my wife and girls all in tears, Mr. Thornhill having been there to inform them that their journey to town was entirely over.  The two ladies, having heard reports of us from some malicious person, were that day set out for London.  We were not long in finding who it was that had been so base as to asperse the character of a family so harmless as ours.  One of our boys found a letter-case which we knew to belong to Mr. Burchell.  Within it was a sealed note, superscribed, “The copy of a letter to be sent to the two ladies at Thornhill Castle.”  At the joint solicitation of the family, I opened it, and read as follows: 

“Ladies,—­I am informed that you have some intention of bringing two young ladies to town, whom I have some knowledge of, under the character of companions.  As I would neither have simplicity imposed upon nor virtue contaminated, I must offer it as my opinion that the impropriety of such a step will be attended with dangerous consequences.  Take therefore, the admonition of a friend, and seriously reflect on the consequences of introducing infamy and vice into retreats where peace and innocence have hitherto resided.”