“Indeed I am not, Madam.”

“I doubt, then, you were upon the brink of it, had not this providential indisposition kept me at home.—­You met, I suppose, to conclude your shocking bargain.—­O poor unhappy girl!—­But let me see what he has given under his hand!”

“He has ’em both, Madam, to be drawn up fair, and in a strong hand, that shall be like a record.”

Could I have thought, Miss, that a girl of nineteen could be so ignorant in a point so important, when in every thing else she has shewn no instances like this stupid folly?

“Has he given you money?”

“Yes, Madam, he gave me—­he gave me—­a note.  Here it is.  He says any body will give me money for it.”  And this was a bank note of fifty pounds, which she pulled out of her stays.

The result was, he was to settle one hundred pounds a year upon her and hers, poor, poor girl—­and was to own her, as he calls it (but as wife or mistress, she stipulated not), when his father died, and he came into the title and estate.

I told her, it was impossible for me to conceal the matter from Lady Davers, if she would not, by her promises to be governed entirely by me, and to abandon all thoughts of Mr. H., give me room to conclude, that the wicked bargain was at an end.

And to keep the poor creature in some spirits, and to enable her to look up, and to be more easy under my direction, I blamed him more than I did her:  though, considering what virtue requires of a woman, and custom has made shameless in a man, I think the poor girl inexcusable, and shall not be easy while she is about me.  For she is more to blame, because, of the two, she has more wit than the man.

“But what can I do?” thought I.  “If I put her away, ’twill be to throw her directly into his hands.  He won’t stay here long:  and she may see her folly.  But yet her eyes were open; she knew what she had to trust to—­and by their wicked beginning, and her encouraging repulses, I doubt she would have been utterly ruined that very day.”

I knew the rage Lady Davers would be in with both.  So this was another embarrassment.  Yet should my good intentions fail, and they conclude their vile bargain, and it appeared that I knew of it, but would not acquaint her, then should I have been more blamed than any mistress of a family, circumstanced as I am.  Upon the whole, I resolved to comfort the girl as well as I could, till I had gained her confidence, that my advice might have the more weight, and, by degrees, be more likely to reclaim her:  for, poor soul! there would be an end of her reputation, the most precious of all jewels, the moment the matter was known; and that would be a sad thing.

As for the man, I thought it best to take courage (and you, that know me, will say, I must have a good deal more than usual) to talk to Mr. H. on this subject.  And she consenting I should, and, with great protestations, declaring her sorrow and repentance, begging to get her note of hand again, and to give him back his note of fifty pounds, I went down to find him.