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Concludes Miss Forward's narrative, and relates some farther particulars of Miss Betsy's behaviour, on hearing a detail she so little expected

How sweet are the consolations of a sincere friend! How greatly do they alleviate the severest of misfortunes!—Miss Forward soon dried up her tears, on a soft commiseration she saw they excited in Miss Betsy; and stifling, as well as she could, the rising sighs with which her bosom heaved at the remembrance of what she was going to relate, resumed her mournful story in these terms.

'You may very well suppose,' said she, 'that the garden-door was not a proper place to entertain my lover in: good manners forbade me to use him in so coarse a manner; besides, late as it was, some passenger might happen to come that way; I therefore led him into the arbour at the end of the terrace, where we sat down together on that broad bench under the arch, where you so often used to loll, and call it your throne of state. Never was there a finer night; the moon, and her attendant stars, shone with uncommon brightness; the air was all serene, the boisterous winds were all locked in their caverns, and only gentle zephyrs, with their fanning wings, wafted a thousand odours from the neighbouring plants, perfuming all around. It was an enchanting scene! Nature herself seemed to conspire my ruin, and contributed all in her power to lull my mind into a soft forgetfulness of what I owed myself—my fame—my fortune—and my family.

'I was beginning to tell him how sensible I was, that to admit him in this manner was against all the rules of decency and decorum, and that I hoped he would not abuse the good opinion I had of him, nor entertain the worse of me for my so readily complying with his request, and such-like stuff: to which he gave little ear, and only answered me with protestations of the most violent passion that ever was; swore that I had more charms than my whole sex besides could boast of; that I was an angel!—a goddess!—that I was nature's whole perfection in one piece! then, looking on me with the most tender languishments, he repeated these lines in a kind of extasy—

"In forming thee, Heav'n took unusual care;

Like it's own beauty it design'd thee fair,

And copied from the best-lov'd angel there."

'The answers I made to these romantick encomiums were silly enough, I believe, and such as encouraged him to think I was too well pleased to be much offended at any thing he did. He kissed, he clasped me to his bosom, still silencing my rebukes, by telling me how handsome I was, and how much he loved me; and that, as opportunities of speaking to me were so difficult to be obtained, I must not think him too presuming if he made the most of this.

'What could I do!—How resist his pressures! The maid having put me to bed that night, as usual, I had no time to dress myself again after I got up; so was in the most loose dishabille that can be imagined. His strength was far superior to mine; there was no creature to come to my assistance; the time, the place, all joined to aid his wishes; and, with the bitterest regret and shame, I now confess, my own fond heart too much consented.

'In a word, my dear Miss Betsy, from one liberty he proceeded to another; till, at last, there was nothing left for him to ask, or me to grant!'

These last words were accompanied with a second flood of tears, which streamed in such abundance down her cheeks, that Miss Betsy was extremely moved: her good-nature made her pity the distress, though her virtue and understanding taught her to detest and despise the ill conduct which occasioned it; she wept and sighed in concert with her afflicted friend, and omitted nothing that she thought might contribute to assuage her sorrows.

Miss Forward was charmed with the generosity of Miss Betsy, and composed herself as much as possible to make those acknowledgements it merited from her; and then proceeded to gratify her curiosity with that part of her adventures which yet remained untold.

'Whenever I recollect,' resumed she, 'how strangely, how suddenly, how almost unsolicited, I yielded up my honour, some lines, which I remember to have read somewhere, come into my mind, and seem, methinks, perfectly adapted to my circumstances. They are these—

"Pleas'd with destruction, proud to be undone,

With open arms I to my ruin run,

And sought the mischiefs I was bid to shun:

Tempted that shame a virgin ought to dread,

And had not the excuse of being betray'd."

'Alas! I see my folly now—my madness! But was blind to it too long. I upbraided not my undoer; I remonstrated not to him any of the ill consequences that might possibly attend this transaction; nor mentioned one word concerning how incumbent it was on him to repair the injury he had done me by marriage. Sure never was there so infatuated a wretch! Morning began to break in upon us; and the pang of being obliged to part, and the means of meeting again, now took up all my thoughts. Letting him in at midnight was very dangerous, as old Nurse Winter, who, you know, is very vapourish, often fancies she hears noises in the house, and rises to see if all the doors and windows are fast: besides, Mr. Wildly told me it was highly inconvenient for him, being obliged to make a friend of my Lord ——'s porter to fit it up for him.

'I was almost at my wit's end; till he recovered me, by saying he believed there might be a more easy way for our intercourse than this nocturnal rendezvous. "Oh, what is that!" cried I, earnestly. "The French woman," replied he, "who lives here, is good-natured, and of a very amorous complexion; at least, Sir John Shuffle, who toyed with her in my lord's park, tells me she is so. But," continued he, "I dare take his word: he knows your sex perfectly; and, I dare answer, if you will get her to go abroad with you, the consequence will be agreeable to us all."

'"What," said I, "would you have me make her my confidante?" "Not altogether so," said he; "at least, not till you are upon even terms with her; I mean, till you have secret for secret."

'"How can that be?" demanded I. "Leave that to me," said he; "do you only get her out to-morrow a walking: let me know, what time you think you can best do it, and Sir John and I will meet you as if by chance." I told him I would undertake to do it if the weather were fair, and that they might meet us going towards the town; but it must be past five, after she had given her French lesson to the ladies. This being agreed upon, we parted, though not without the extremest reluctance; at least, I am sure, on my side it was sincerely so. I then went back with the same precaution I had gone out; locked all the doors softly, and got into my chamber before any of the family were stirring.

'I was more than ordinarily civil to Mademoiselle all the next day; I said every thing I could think on to flatter her: and, having got an opportunity of speaking to her alone, "Dear Mademoiselle," said I, in a wheedling tone, "I have a great favour to beg of you."—"What is that, Miss?" replied she. "Any thing in my power you may command." I then told her I had got a whim in my head for a new tippet, and that I wanted her fancy in the choice of the colours. "With all my heart," said she; "and when we go out a walking this evening, we can call at the milliner's, and buy the ribbands."—"That will not do," cried I; "I would not have any of the ladies know any thing of the matter till I have made it, and got it on; so nobody must go with us."—"Well, well," answered she, "it shall be so; but I must tell the governess. I know she will not be against humouring you in such a little fancy, and will send the other tutoress, or Nurse Winter, to wait upon the other ladies." I told her she was very good, but enjoined her to beg the governess to keep it as a secret; for my tippet would be mighty pretty, and I wanted to surprize them with the sight of it.

'The governess, however, was so kind as to let us go somewhat before the time we expected, in order to prevent any one from offering to accompany us: but, early as it was, the two gentlemen were on the road. They accosted us with a great deal of complaisance: "What, my Diana of the forest!" said Sir John to Mademoiselle, "am I so fortunate to see you once again?" What reply she made I do not know, being speaking to Wildly at the same time; but he also, by my instigations, made his chief court to Mademoiselle, and both of them joined to intreat she would permit them to lead her to some house of entertainment: her refusals were very faint, and, perceiving by my look, that I was not very averse, "What shall we do, Miss?" said she to me; "there is no getting rid of these men. Shall we venture to go with them? It is but a frolick."—"I am under your direction, Mademoiselle; but I see no harm in it; as, to be sure," replied I, "they are gentlemen of honour."

'In fine, we went into the first house that had the prospect of affording us an agreeable reception. It is not to be doubted but we were treated with the best the place we were in could supply; Sir John declared the most flaming passion for Mademoiselle, and engrossed her so much to himself, that Wildly had the liberty of addressing me, without letting her see his choice gave me the preference.

'Sir John, after using Mademoiselle with some freedoms, which I could perceive she did not greatly resent, told her, there was an exceeding fine picture in the next room; and asked her to go and look upon it. "O yes!" replied she, "I am extravagantly fond of painting.—Are you not, Miss?" continued she to me with a careless air. "No," said I, "I had rather stay here, and look out of the window: but I would not hinder this gentleman," meaning Mr. Wildly; who replied, "I have seen it already, so will stay and keep you company."

'I believe, indeed, we might have spared ourselves the trouble of these last speeches, for our companions seemed as little to expect as to desire we should follow them; but ran laughing, jumping, and skipping, out of the room, utterly regardless of those they left behind.

'Thus, you see, my dear Miss Betsy,' continued she, 'Wildly had, a second time, the opportunity of triumphing over the weakness of your unhappy friend. Oh! had it been the last, perhaps I had not been the wretch I am: but, alas! my folly ceased not here; I loved, and every interview made him still dearer to me.

'On Mademoiselle's return, we began to talk of going home: "Bless me," cried I, "it is now too late to go into town. What excuse shall we make to the governess for not having bought the ribbands?"—"I have already contrived that," replied she; "I will tell her, that the woman had none but ugly old-fashioned things, and expects a fresh parcel from London in two or three days."—"Oh, that is rare," cried I; "that will be a charming pretence for our coming out again."—"And a charming opportunity for our meeting you again," said Sir John Shuffle. "If you have any inclination to lay hold of it," rejoined Mademoiselle. "And you have courage to venture," cried he. "You see we are no cowards," answered she briskly. "Well, then, name your day," said Wildly; "if Sir John accepts the challenge, I will be his second: but I am afraid it cannot be till after Thursday, because my lord talks of going back to ——, and we cannot be back in less than three days."

'Friday, therefore, was the day agreed upon; and we all four were punctual to the appointment. I shall not trouble you with the particulars of our conversation in this or any other of the meetings we had together; only tell you, that by the contrivance of one or other of us, we found means of coming together once or twice every week, during the whole time these gentlemen staid in the country, which was upwards of two months.

'On taking leave, I pressed Wildly to write to me under cover of Mademoiselle Grenouille, which he promised to do, and I was silly enough to expect. Many posts arriving, without bringing any letter, I was sadly disappointed, and could not forbear expressing my concern to Mademoiselle, who only laughed at me, and told me, I as yet knew nothing of the world, nor the temper of mankind; that a transient acquaintance, such as ours had been with these gentlemen, ought to be forgot as soon as over; that there was no great probability we should ever see one another again; and it would be only a folly to keep up a correspondence by letters; and added, that by this time, they were, doubtless, entered into other engagements. "And so might we too," said she, "if the place and fashion we live in did not prevent us."

'I found by this, and some other speeches of the like nature, that it was the sex, not the person, she regarded. I could not, however, be of her way of thinking. I really loved Mr. Wildly, and would have given the world, had I been mistress of it, to have seen him again; but, as she said, indeed, there was no probability of my doing so; and therefore I attempted, through her persuasions, to make a virtue of necessity, and forget both him and all that passed between us. I should in the end, perhaps, have accomplished this point; but, oh! I had a remembrancer within, which I did not presently know of. In fine, I had but too much reason to believe I was pregnant; a thing which, though a natural consequence of the folly I had been guilty of, never once entered my head.

'Mademoiselle Grenouille seemed now terribly alarmed, on my communicating to her my suspicions on this score: she cried 'twas very unlucky!—then paused, and asked what I would do, if it should really be as I feared. I replied, that I knew not what course to take, for if my father should know it I was utterly undone: I added, that he was a very austere man; and, besides, I had a mother-in-law, who would not fail to say every thing she could to incense him against me.

'"I see no recourse you have, then," said she, "but by taking physick to cause an abortion. You must pretend you are a little disordered, and send for an apothecary; the sooner the better, for if it should become visible, all would infallibly be known, and we should both be ruined."

'I was not so weak as not to see, that if any discovery were made, her share in the intrigue must come out, and she would be directly turned out of doors; and that, whatever concern she pretended for me, it was chiefly on her own account: however, as I saw no other remedy, was resolved to take her advice.

'Thus, by having been guilty of one crime, I was ensnared to commit another of a yet fouler kind: one was the error of nature, this an offence against nature. The black design, however, succeeded not: I took potion after potion, yet still retained the token of my shame; which at length became too perspicuous for me to hope it would not be taken notice of by all who saw me.

'I was almost distracted, and Mademoiselle Grenouille little less so. I was one day alone in my chamber, pondering on my wretched state, and venting some part of the anguish of my mind in tears, when she came in; "What avails all this whimpering?" said she; "you do but hasten what you would wish to avoid. The governess already perceives you are strangely altered; she thinks you are either in a bad state of health, or some way disordered in your mind, and talks of writing to your father to send for you home." "Oh Heaven!" cried I. "Home, did you say?—No; I will never go home! The grave is not so hateful to me, nor death so terrible, as my father's presence."—"I pity you from my soul," said she: "but what can you do? There will be no staying for you here, after your condition is once known, and it cannot be concealed much longer." These words, the truth of which I was very well convinced of, drove me into the last despair: I raved, I tore my hair, I swore to poison, drown, or stab myself, rather than live to have my shame exposed to the severity of my father, and reproaches of my kindred.'

'"Come, come," resumed she, "there is no need of such desperate remedies; you had better go to London, and have recourse to Wildly: who knows, as you are a gentleman's daughter, and will have a fortune, but you may persuade him to marry you? If not, you can oblige him to take care of you in your lying-in, and to keep the child: and when you are once got rid of your burden, some excuse or other may be found for your elopement."

'"But how shall I get to London?" resumed I; "how find out my undoer in a place I know nothing of, nor ever have been at? Of whom shall I enquire? I am ignorant of what family he is, or even where he lives."—"As to that," replied she, "I will undertake to inform myself of every thing necessary for you to know; and, if you resolve to go, I will set about it directly." I then told her, I would do any thing rather than be exposed; on which she bid me assume as chearful a countenance as I could, and depend on her bringing me some intelligence of Wildly before I slept.

'The method she took to make good her promise was, it seems, to send a person whom she could confide in to the seat of Lord ——, to enquire among the servants, where Mr. Wildly, who had lately been a guest there, might be found. She told me that the answer they gave the man was, that they knew not where he lodged, but that he might be heard of at any of the coffee-houses about St. James's. As I was altogether a stranger in London, this information gave me but little satisfaction; but Mademoiselle Grenouille, whose interest it was to hurry me away, assured me that she knew that part of the town perfectly well, having lived there several months on her first arrival in England—that there were several great coffee-houses there, frequented by all the gentlemen of fashion, and that nothing would be more easy than to find Mr. Wildly at one or other of them. My heart, however, shuddered at the thoughts of this enterprize; yet her persuasions, joined to the terrors I was in of being exposed, and the certainty that a discovery of my condition was inevitable, made me resolve to undertake it.

'Nothing now remained but the means how I should get away, so as to avoid the pursuit which might, doubtless, be made after me; which, after some consultation, was thus contrived and executed.

'A flying-coach set out from H—— every Monday at two o'clock in the morning; Mademoiselle Grenouille engaged the same man who had enquired at Lord ——'s for Mr. Wildly, to secure a place for me in it. The Sunday before I was to go, I pretended indisposition to avoid going to church: I passed that time in packing up the best of my things in a large bundle; for I had no opportunity of taking a box or trunk with me. My greatest difficulty was how to get out of bed from Miss Bab, who still lay with me; I thought, however, that if she happened to awake while I was rising, I would tell her I was not very well, and was only going into the next room, to open the window for a little air: but I stood in no need of this precaution, she was in a sound sleep, and I left my bed, put on the cloaths I was to travel in, and stole out of the room, without her perceiving any thing of the matter. I went out by the same way by which I had fulfilled my first fatal appointment with Mr. Wildly. At a little distance from the garden-door, I found the friend of Mademoiselle Grenouille, who waited for me with a horse and pillion; he took my bundle before, and me behind him, and then we made the best of our way towards H——, where we arrived time enough for the coach. I alighted at the door of the inn, and he rode off directly to avoid being seen by any body, who might describe him, in case an enquiry should be made.

'I will not trouble you with the particulars of my journey, nor how I was amazed on entering this great metropolis; I shall only tell you, that it being dark when we came in, I lay that night at the inn, and the next morning, following the directions Mademoiselle Grenouille had given me, took a hackney-coach, and ordered the man to drive into any of the streets about St. James's, and stop at the first house where he should see a bill upon the door for ready-furnished lodgings. It happened to be in Rider Street; the woman at first seemed a little scrupulous of taking me, as I was a stranger, and had no recommendation; but on my telling her I would pay her a fortnight beforehand, we agreed on the rate of twelve shillings a week.

'The first thing I did was to send a porter to the coffee-houses; where he easily heard of him, but brought me the vexatious intelligence that he was gone to Tunbridge; and it was not known when he would return. This was a very great misfortune to me, and the more so as I had very little money: I thought it best, however, to follow him thither, which I did the same week.

'But oh! my dear Betsy, how unlucky every thing happened; he had left that place the very morning before I arrived, and gone for London. I had nothing now to do but return; but was so disordered with the fatigues I had undergone, that I was obliged to stay four days to compose myself. When I came back, I sent immediately to the coffee-house: but how shall I express the distraction I was in, when I was told he had lain but one night in town, and was gone to Bath.

'This second disappointment was terrible indeed; I had but half-a-crown remaining of the little stock I brought from the boarding-school, and had no way to procure a supply but by selling my watch, which I did to a goldsmith in the neighbourhood, for what he was pleased to give me, and then set out for Bath by the first coach.

'Here I had the good fortune to meet him; he was strangely surprized at the sight of me in that place, but much more so when I told him what had brought me there: he seemed extremely concerned at the accident. But when I mentioned marriage, he plainly told me I must not think of such a thing; that he was not in circumstances to support a family; that, having lost the small fortune left him by his friends at play, he was obliged to have recourse, for his present subsistence, to the very means by which he had been undone: in short, that he was a gamester. The name startled me: treated as I had always heard it, with the utmost contempt, I could not reconcile how such a one came to be the guest and companion of a lord; though I have since heard that men of that profession frequently receive those favours from the nobility, which are denied to persons of more unblemished characters.

'Wildly however, it is certain, had some notions of honour and good-nature; he assured me he would do all in his power to protect me; but added, that he had been very unfortunate of late, and that I must wait for a lucky chance, before he could afford me any supply.

'I staid at Bath all the time he was there: he visited me every day; but I lived on my own money till we came to town, when my time being very near, he brought me to the place you find me in, having, it seems, agreed with the woman of the house for a certain sum of money to support me during my lying-in, and keep the child as long as it should live. The miseries I have sustained during my abode with this old hag, would be too tedious to repeat. The only joy I have is, that the wretched infant died in three days after it's birth, so has escaped the woes which children thus exposed are doomed to bear. Wildly has taken his last leave of me, and I have wrote to an aunt, entreating her to endeavour to obtain my father's forgiveness. I pretended to her that I left L——e for no other reason than because I had an ardent desire to see London; and as I think nobody can reveal to him the true cause, have some hopes of not being utterly abandoned by him.'

Here this unfortunate creature finished her long narrative; and Miss Betsy saw her in too much affliction to express any thing that might increase it: she only thanked her for reposing a confidence in her; 'Which,' said she, 'may be of great service to me some time or other.'

Before they parted, Miss Forward said she had gone in debt to Mrs. Nightshade, for some few things she wanted, over and above what is generally allowed in such cases, and had been affronted by her for not being able to discharge it; therefore intreated Miss Betsy to lend her twenty shillings; on which the generous and sweet-tempered young lady immediately drew her purse, and after giving her the sum she demanded, put two guineas more into her hand. 'Be pleased to accept this,' said she; 'you may possibly want something after having paid your debt.' The other thanked her, and told her she doubted not but her aunt would send her something, and she would then repay it. 'I shall give myself no pain about that,' said Miss Betsy: and then took her leave, desiring she would let her know by a letter what success she had with her friends. Miss Forward told her she might depend not only on hearing from her, but seeing her again, as soon as she had any thing to acquaint her with.