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Brings many things on the carpet, highly pleasing to Miss Betsy, in their beginning, and no less perplexing to her in their consequences

The accounts of those many and dreadful misfortunes which the ill conduct of Miss Forward had drawn upon her, made Miss Betsy extremely pensive. 'It is strange,' said she to herself, 'that a woman cannot indulge in the liberty of conversing freely with a man, without being persuaded by him to do every thing he would have her.' She thought, however, that some excuse might be made for Miss Forward, on the score of her being strictly debarred from all acquaintance with the other sex. 'People,' cried she, 'have naturally an inclination to do what they are most forbid. The poor girl had a curiosity to hear herself addressed; and having no opportunity of gratifying that passion, but by admitting her lover at so odd a time and place, was indeed too much in his power to have withstood her ruin, even if she had been mistress of more courage and resolution than she was.'

On meditating on the follies which women are sometimes prevailed upon to be guilty of, the discovery she had made of Miss Flora's intrigue with Gayland came fresh into her mind. 'What,' said she, 'could induce her to sacrifice her honour? Declarations of love were not new to her. She heard every day the flatteries with which our sex are treated by the men, and needed not to have purchased the assiduities of any one of them at so dear a rate. Good God! are innocence, and the pride on conscious virtue, things of so little estimation, as to be thrown away for the trifling pleasure of hearing a few tender protestations? perhaps all false, and uttered by one whose heart despises the early fondness he has triumphed over, and ridicules the very grant of what he has so earnestly solicited!'

It is certain this young lady had the highest notions of honour and virtue; and whenever she gave herself time to reflect, looked on every thing that had a tendency to make an encroachment on them with the most extreme detestation; yet had the good-nature enough to pity those faults in others, she thought it impossible for her to be once guilty of herself.

But, amidst sentiments as noble and as generous as ever heart was possessed of, vanity, that foible of her soul, crept in, and would have it's share. She had never been thoroughly attacked in a dishonourable way, but by Gayland, and the gentleman-commoner at Oxford; both which she rebuffed with a becoming disdain. In this she secretly exulted, and had that dependence on her power of repelling all the efforts, come they in what shape soever, that should be made against her virtue, that she thought it beneath her to behave so as not to be in danger of incurring them.

How great a pity it is, that a mind endued with so many excellent qualities, and which had such exalted ideas of what is truly valuable in womankind, should be tainted with a frailty of so fatal a nature, as to expose her to temptations, which if she were not utterly undone, it must be owing rather to the interposition of her guardian angel, than to the strength of human reason: but of that hereafter. At present there were none had any base designs upon her: we must shew what success those gentlemen met with, who addressed her with the most pure and honourable intensions. Of this number we shall speak first of Mr. Trueworth and Mr. Staple; the one, as has been already said, strenuously recommended by her brother, the other by Mr. Goodman.

Mr. Staple had the good fortune (if it may be called so) to be the first of these two who had the opportunity of declaring his passion; the journey of the other to London having been retarded two days longer than he intended.

This gentleman having Mr. Goodman's leave, made a second visit at his house. Lady Mellasin and Miss Flora knowing on what business he was come, made an excuse for leaving him and Miss Betsy together. He made his addresses to her in the forms which lovers usually observe on the first declaration; and she replied to what he said, in a manner not to encourage him too much, nor yet to take from him all hope.

While they were discoursing, a footman came in, and told her a gentleman from Oxford desired to speak with her, having some commands from her brother to deliver to her. Mr. Staple supposing they had business, took his leave, and Mr. Trueworth (for it was he indeed) was introduced.

'Madam,' said he, saluting her with the utmost respect, 'I have many obligations to Mr. Thoughtless; but none which demands so large a portion of my gratitude, as the honour he has conferred upon me in presenting you with this letter.' To which she replied, that her brother must certainly have a great confidence in his goodness, to give him this trouble. With these words she took the letter out of his hand; and having obliged him to seat himself, 'You will pardon, Sir,' said she, 'the rudeness which my impatience to receive the commands of so near and dear a relation makes me guilty of.' He made no other answer to these words than a low bow; and she withdrew to a window, and found the contents of her brother's letter were these.

'To Miss Betsy Thoughtless.

My dear sister,

I shall leave Oxford to-morrow, in order to cross the country for the seat of Sir Ralph Trusty, as I suppose Mr. Goodman will inform you, I having wrote to him by the post: but the most valuable of my friends being going to London, and expressing a desire of renewing that acquaintance he had begun to commence with you here, I have taken the liberty of troubling him with the delivery of this to you. He is a gentleman whose merits you are yet a stranger to; but I have so good an opinion of your penetration, as to be confident a very little time will convince you that he is deserving all the esteem in your power to regard him with; in the mean time doubt not but you will receive him as a person whose success, in every thing, is much desired by him, who is, with the tenderest good wishes, dear sister, your most affectionate brother,

F. Thoughtless.'

As she did not doubt but by the stile and manner of this letter, that it had been seen by Mr. Trueworth, she could not keep herself from blushing, which he observing as he sat, flattered himself with taking as a good omen. He had too much awe upon him, however, to make any declarations of his passion at the first visit: neither, indeed, had he an opportunity of doing it; Lady Mellasin and Miss Flora, thinking they had left Mr. Staple and Miss Betsy a sufficient time together, came into the room. The former was surprized to find he was gone, and a strange gentleman in his place; but Miss Flora remembering him perfectly well, they saluted each other with the freedom of persons who were not entire strangers: they entered into a conversation; and other company coming in, Mr. Trueworth had an opportunity of displaying the fine talents he was master of. His travels—the observations he had made on the curiosities he had seen abroad, particularly at Rome, Florence, and Naples, were highly entertaining to the company. On taking leave, he told the ladies, he hoped they would allow him the favour of making one at their tea-table sometimes, while he remained in London; to which Lady Mellasin and her daughter, little suspecting the motive he had for this request, joined in assuring him he could not come too often, and that they should expect to see him every day: but Miss Betsy looking on herself as chiefly concerned in his admission, modestly added to what they had said, only that a person so much, and she doubted not but so justly, esteemed by her brother, might be certain of a sincere welcome from her.

Every body was full of the praises of this gentleman; and Miss Betsy, though she said the least of any one, thought her brother had not bestowed more on him than he really deserved. Mr. Goodman coming home soon after, there appeared some marks of displeasure in his countenance, which, as he was the best humoured man in the world, very much surprized those of his family: but the company not being all retired, none of them seemed to take any notice of it, and went on with the conversation they were upon before his entrance.

The visitors, however, were no sooner gone, than, without staying to be asked, he immediately let them into the occasion of his being so much ruffled; 'Miss Betsy,' said he, 'you have used me very ill; I did not think you would have made a fool of me in the manner you have done.'—'Bless me, Sir,' cried she, 'in what have I offended?'—'You have not only offended against me,' answered he, very hastily, 'but also against your own reason and common understanding: you are young, it is true, yet not so young as not to know it is both ungenerous and silly to impose upon your friends.'—'I scorn the thought, Sir, of imposing upon any body,' said she; 'I therefore desire, Sir, you will tell me what you mean by so unjust an accusation.'—'Unjust!' resumed he; 'I appeal to the whole world, if it were well done of you to suffer me to encourage my friend's courtship to you, when at the same time your brother had engaged you to receive the addresses of another.'

Miss Betsy, though far from thinking it a fault in her to hear the proposals of a hundred lovers, had as many offered themselves, was yet a little shocked at the reprimand given her by Mr. Goodman; and not being able presently to make any reply to what he had said, he took a letter he had just received from her brother out of his pocket, and threw it on the table, with these words—'That will shew,' said he, 'whether I have not cause to resent your behaviour in this point.' Perceiving she was about to take it up, 'Hold!' cried he, 'my wife shall read it, and be the judge between us.'

Lady Mellasin, who had not spoke all this time, then took the letter, and read aloud the contents, which were these.

'To Mr. Goodman.

Sir,

This comes to let you know I have received the remittances you were so obliging to send me. I think to set out to-morrow for L——e; but shall not stay there for any length of time: my intentions for going into the army are the same as when I last wrote to you; and the more I consider on that affair, the more I am confirmed that a military life is most suitable of any to my genius and humour. If, therefore, you can hear of any thing proper for me, either in the Guards, or in a marching-regiment, I shall be infinitely thankful for the trouble you take in the enquiry: but, Sir, this is not all the favours I have to ask of you at present. A gentleman of family, fortune, and character, has seen my sister, likes her; and is going to London on no other business than to make his addresses to her. I have already wrote to her on this subject, and I believe she will pay some regard to what I have said in his behalf. I am very well assured she can never have a more advantageous offer, as to his circumstances, nor be united to a man of more true honour, morality, and sweetness of disposition; all of which I have had frequent occasions of being an eyewitness of: but she is young, gay, and, as yet, perhaps, not altogether so capable as I could wish of knowing what will make for her real happiness. I therefore intreat you, Sir, as the long experienced friend of our family, to forward this match, both by your advice, and whatever else is in your power, which certainly will be the greatest act of goodness you can confer on her, as well as the highest obligation to a brother, who wishes nothing more than to see her secured from all temptations, and well settled in the world. I am, with the greatest respect, Sir, your most humble, and most obedient servant,

F. Thoughtless.

P.S. I had forgot to inform you Sir, that the name of the gentleman I take the liberty of recommending with so much warmth, is Trueworth; that he is descended from the ancient Britons by the father's side, and by the mother's from the honourable and well-known Oldcastles, in Kent.'

'O fie, Miss Betsy!' said Lady Mellasin, 'how could you serve Mr. Goodman so? What will Mr. Staple say, when he comes to know he was encouraged to court a woman that was already pre-engaged?'—'Pre-engaged, Madam!' cried Miss Betsy, in a scornful tone; 'what, to a man I never saw but three times in my whole life, and whose mouth never uttered a syllable of love to me!' She was going on; but Mr. Goodman, who was still in a great heat, interrupted her, saying, 'No matter whether he has uttered any thing of the business, or not, it seems you are enough acquainted with his sentiments; and I doubt not but he knows you are, or he would not have taken a journey to London on your account. You ought therefore to have told me of his coming, and what your brother had wrote concerning him; and I should then have let Mr. Staple know it would be to no purpose to make any courtship to you, as I did to another just before I came home, who I find has taken a great fancy to you: but I have given him an answer. For my part, I do not understand this way of making gentlemen lose their time.'

It is probable these last words nettled Miss Betsy more than all the rest he had said; she imagined herself secure of the hearts of both Trueworth and Staple, but was vexed to the heart to have lost the addresses of a third admirer, through the scrupulousness of Mr. Goodman, who she looked upon to have nothing to do with her affairs in this particular: she was too cunning, however, to let him see what her thoughts were on this occasion, and only said, that he might do as he pleased—that she did not want a husband—that all men were alike to her—but added, that it seemed strange to her that a young woman who had her fortune to make, might not be allowed to hear all the different proposals that should be offered to her on that score; and with these words, flung out of the room, and went up into her chamber, nor would be prevailed upon to come down again that night, though Miss Flora, and Mr. Goodman himself, repenting he had said so much, called to her for that purpose.