“Yes, my dear, they will too often, the more’s the pity!  And don’t you remember, when we were at Bath, in what a hurry I once passed by some knots of genteel people, and you asked what those were doing?  I told you, whisperingly, they were gaming; and loath I was, that my Miss Goodwin should stop to see some sights, to which, till she arrived at the years of discretion, it was not proper to familiarize her eye; in some sort acting like the ancient Romans, who would not assign punishments to certain atrocious crimes, because they had such an high idea of human nature, as to suppose it incapable of committing them; so I was not for having you, while a little girl, see those things, which I knew would give no credit to our sex, and which I thought, when you grew older, should be new and shocking to you:  but now you are so much a woman in discretion, I may tell you any thing.”

She kissed my hand, and made me a fine curtsey-and told me, that now she longed to hear of Prudentia’s conduct. “Her name, Madam,” said she, “promises better things than those of her three companions; and so it had need:  for how sad is it to think, that out of four ladies of distinction, three of them should be naughty, and, of course, unhappy."-"These two words, of course, my dear,” said I, “were very prettily put in:  let me kiss you for it:  since every one that is naughty, first or last, must be certainly unhappy.

“Far otherwise than what I have related, was it with the amiable Prudentia.  Like the industrious bee, she makes up her honey-hoard from every flower, bitter as well as sweet; for every character is of use to her, by which she can improve her own.  She had the happiness of an aunt, who loved her, as I do you; and of an uncle who doated on her, as yours does:  for, alas! poor Prudentia lost her papa and mamma almost in her infancy, in one week:  but was so happy in her uncle and aunt’s care, as not to miss them in her education, and but just to remember their persons.  By reading, by observation, and by attention, she daily added new advantages to those which her education gave her.  She saw, and pitied, the fluttering freedoms and dangerous nights of Coquetilla.  The sullen pride, the affectation, and stiff reserves, which Prudiana assumed, she penetrated, and made it her study to avoid.  And the gay, hazardous conduct, extravagant temper, and love of tinselled grandeur, which were the blemishes of Profusiana’s character, she dreaded and shunned.  She fortifies herself with the excellent examples of the past and present ages, and knows how to avoid the faults of the faulty, and to imitate the graces of the most perfect.  She takes into her scheme of that future happiness, which she hopes to make her own, what are the true excellencies of her sex, and endeavours to appropriate to herself the domestic virtues, which shall one day make her the crown of some worthy gentleman’s earthly happiness:  and which, of course, as you prettily said, my dear, will secure and heighten her own.