“Ah!  Madam,” replied I, “this was the very inference I made upon the occasion.”—­“And what could he say?”—­“He said, my inference was just; but called me pretty preacher;—­and once having cautioned me not to be over-serious to him, so as to cast a gloom, as he said, over our innocent enjoyments, I never dare to urge matters farther, when he calls me by that name.”

“Well,” said my lady, “thou’rt an admirable girl!  God’s goodness was great to our family, when it gave thee to it.  No wonder,” continued she, “as my brother says, every body that sees you, and has heard your character, loves you.  And this is some excuse for the inconsiderate folly even of this unknown transcriber.”—­“Ah!  Madam,” replied I, “but is it not a sad thing, that people, if they must take upon them to like one’s behaviour in general, should have the worst, instead of the best thoughts upon it?  If I were as good as I ought to be, and as some think me, must they wish to make me bad for that reason?”

Her ladyship was pleased to kiss me as we sat.  “My charming Pamela, my more than sister,.”—­(Did she say?)—­Yes, she did say so! and made my eyes overflow with joy to hear the sweet epithet.  “How your conversation charms me!—­I charge you, when you get to town, let me have your remarks on the diversions you will be carried to by my brother.  Now I know what to expect from you, and you know how acceptable every thing from you will be to me, I promise great pleasure, as well to myself as to my worthy friends, particularly to Lady Betty, in your unrestrained free correspondence.—­Indeed, Pamela, I must bring you acquainted with Lady Betty:  she is one of the worthies of our sex, and has a fine understanding.—­I’m sure you’ll like her.—­But (for the world say it not to my brother, nor let Lady Betty know I tell you so, if ever you should be acquainted) I had carried the matter so far by my officious zeal to have my brother married to so fine a lady, not doubting his joyful approbation, that it was no small disappointment to her, when he married you:  and this is the best excuse I can make for my furious behaviour to you at the Hall.  For though I am naturally very hasty and passionate, yet then I was almost mad.—­Indeed my disappointment had given me so much indignation both against you and him, that it is well I did not do some violent thing by you.  I believe you did feel the weight of my hand:  but what was that?  ’Twas well I did not kill you dead.”—­These were her ladyship’s words—­“For how could I think the wild libertine capable of being engaged by such noble motives, or thee what thou art!—­So this will account to thee a little for my violence then.”

“Your ladyship,” said I, “all these things considered, had but too much reason to be angry at your dear brother’s proceedings, so well as you always loved him, so high a concern as you always had to promote his honour and interest, and so far as you had gone with Lady Betty.”