“I had thus every thing ready for the execution of my project:  but my mother’s ill state of health gave me too much concern, to permit me to proceed.  And, now-and-then, as my frequent attendance in her illness gave me an opportunity of observing more and more of the girl; her affectionate duty, and continual tears (finding her often on her knees, praying for her mistress,) I was moved to pity her; and while those scenes of my mother’s illness and decline were before me, I would resolve to conquer, if possible, my guilty passion, as those scenes taught me, while their impressions held, justly to call it; and I was much concerned to find it so difficult a task; for, till now, I thought it principally owing to my usual enterprising temper, and a love of intrigue; and that I had nothing to do but to resolve against it, and to subdue it.

“But I was greatly mistaken:  for I had insensibly brought myself to admire her in every thing she said or did; and there was so much gracefulness, humility, and innocence in her whole behaviour, and I saw so many melting scenes between her lady and her, that I found I could not master my esteem for her.

“My mother’s illness increasing beyond hopes of recovery, and having settled all her greater affairs, she talked to me of her servants; I asked what she would have done for Pamela and Mrs. Jervis.

“’Make Mrs. Jervis, my dear son, as happy as you can:  she is a gentlewoman born, you know; let her always be treated as such; but for your own sake, don’t make her independent; for then you’ll want a faithful manager.  Yet if you marry, and your lady should not value her as she deserves, allow her a competency for the rest of her life, and let her live as she pleases.

“’As for Pamela, I hope you will be her protector!—­She is a good girl:  I love her next to you and your dear sister.  She is just arriving at a trying time of life.  I don’t know what to say for her.  What I had designed was, that if any man of a genteel calling should offer, I would give her a little pretty portion, had God spared my life till then.  But were she made independent, some idle fellow might snap her up; for she is very pretty:  or if she should carry what you give her to her poor parents, as her duty would lead her to do, they are so unhappily involved, that a little matter would be nothing to them, and the poor girl might be to seek again.  Perhaps Lady Davers will take her.  But I wish she was not so pretty!  She may be the bird for which some wicked fowler will spread his snares; or, it may be, every lady will not choose to have such a waiting-maid.  You are a young gentleman, and I am sorry to say, not better than I wish you to be—­Though I hope my Pamela would not be in danger from her master, who owes all his servants protection, as much as the king does to his subjects.  Yet I don’t know how to wish her to stay with you, for your own reputation’s sake, my dear son;—­for the world will censure