“All this, Sir, is very true.  But have you no other objection, if one could find a genteely-descended young Master?  And would you join to persuade his papa to give me up his power, only from three months to three months, as I liked, and the child liked, and as the papa approved of my proceedings?”

“This is so reasonable, with these last conditions, Pamela, that I should be pleased with your notion, if it could be put in practice, because the child would be benefited by your instruction, and you would be improved in an art, which I could wish to see you an adept in.”

“But, perhaps.  Sir, you had rather it were a girl than a boy?”—­“I had, my dear, if a girl could be found, whose parents would give her up to you; but I suppose you have some boy in your head, by your putting it upon that sex at first.”

“Let me see, Sir, you say you are in a good humour!  Let me see if you be;”—­looking boldly in his face.

“What now,” with some little impatience, “would the pretty fool be at?”

“Only, Sir, that you have nothing to do, but to speak the word, and there is a child, whose papa and mamma too, I am sure, would consent to give up to me for my own instruction, as well as for her sake; and if, to speak in the Scripture phrase, I have found grace in your sight, kind Sir, speak this word to the dear child’s papa.”

“And have you thus come over me, Pamela!—­Go, I am half angry with you, for leading me on in this manner against myself.  This looks so artful, that I won’t love you!”—­“Dear Sir!”—­“And dear Madam too!  Be gone, I say!—­You have surprised me by art, when your talent is nature, and you should keep to that!”

I was sadly baulked, and had neither power to go nor stay!  At last, seeing I had put him into a kind of flutter, as now he had put me, I moved my unwilling feet towards the door.—­He took a turn about the closet meantime.—­“Yet stay,” said he, “there is something so generous in your art, that, on recollection, I cannot part with you.”

He took notice of the starting tear—­“I am to blame!—­You had surprised me so, that my hasty temper got the better of my consideration.  Let me kiss away this pearly fugitive.  Forgive me, my dearest love!  What an inconsiderate brute am I, when compared to such an angel as my Pamela!  I see at once now, all the force, and all the merit, of your amiable generosity:  and to make you amends for this my hastiness, I will coolly consider of the matter, and will either satisfy you by my compliance, or by the reasons, which I will give you for the contrary.

“But, say, my Pamela, can you forgive my harshness?”—­“Can I!—­Yes, indeed, Sir,” pressing his hand to my lips; “and bid me Go, and Be gone, twenty times a-day, if I am to be thus kindly called back to you, thus nobly and condescendingly treated, in the same breath!-I see, dear Sir,” continued I, “that I must be in fault, if ever you are lastingly displeased with me.  For as soon as you turn yourself about, your anger vanishes, and you make me rich amends for a few harsh words.  Only one thing, dear Sir, let me add; if I have dealt artfully with you, impute it to my fear of offending you, through the nature of my petition, and not to design; and that I took the example of the prophet, to King David, in the parable of the Ewe-Lamb.”