“I the less wonder, Sir,” said I, “at your boldness (pardon the word!) with such a lady, in your first visit, because of her freedoms, when masked, her unmasking, and her handkerchief, and letter cover.  To be sure, the lady, when she saw, next day, such a fine gentleman and handsome equipage, had little reason, after her other freedoms, to be so very nice with you as to decline an ensnaring conversation, calculated on purpose to engage her attention, and to lengthen out your visit.  But did she not ask you who you were?”

“Her servants did of mine.  And her woman (for I knew all afterwards, when we were better acquainted), whispered her lady, that I was Mr. B. of Bedfordshire; and had an immense estate, to which they were so kind as to add two or three thousand pounds a year, out of pure good will to me:  I thank them.”

“But pray, dear Sir, what had you in view in all this?  Did you intend to carry this matter, at first, as far as ever you could?”—­“I had, at first, my dear, no view, but such as pride and vanity suggested to me.  I was carried away by inconsideration, and the love of intrigue, without even thinking about the consequences.  The lady, I observed, had abundance of fine qualities.  I thought I could converse with her, on a very agreeable foot, and her honour I knew, at any time, would preserve me mine, if ever I should find it in danger; and, in my soul, I preferred my Pamela to all the ladies on earth, and questioned not, but that, and your virtue, would be another barrier to my fidelity.

“In a word, therefore, pride, vanity, thoughtlessness, were my misguiders, as I said.  The Countess’s honour and character, and your virtue and merit, my dear, and my obligations to you, were my defences:  but I find one should avoid the first appearances of evil.  One knows not one’s own strength.  ’Tis presumptuous to depend upon it, where wit and beauty are in the way on one side, and youth and strong passions on the other.”

“You certainly, Sir, say right.  But be pleased to tell me what her ladyship said when she knew you were married.”—­“The Countess’s woman was in my interest, and let me into some of her lady’s secrets, having a great share in her confidence; and particularly acquainted me, how loth her lady was to believe I was married.  I had paid her three visits in town, and one to her seat upon the Forest, before she heard that I was.  But when she was assured of it, and directed her Nelthorpe to ask me about it, and I readily owned it, she was greatly incensed, though nothing but general civilities, and intimacies not inconsistent with honourable friendship, had passed between us.  The consequence was, she forbad my ever seeing her again, and set out with her sister and the Viscount for Tunbridge, where she staid about three weeks.