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Contains some incidents which will be found equally interesting and entertaining, or the author is very much mistaken

Mr. Trueworth had all the reason imaginable, from the whole deportment of Miss Betsy towards him, to believe that there wanted little more for the conclusion of his marriage with her than the arrival of her two brothers; she had often told him, whenever he pressed her on that score, that she would give no definitive answer, till she had received the advice and approbation of the elder Mr. Thoughtless.

That gentleman was now expected in a few days, and Mr. Francis Thoughtless having intelligence of his being on his return, was also preparing to leave L——e, in order to meet him on his first arrival in London; but, during this short space of time, some events fell out, which put a great damp on the gaiety of those, who had with so much impatience wished for their approach.

Mr. Trueworth had an aunt, who, besides being the nearest relation he had living, and the only one in London, was extremely respected by him, on account of her great prudence, exemplary virtue, and the tender affection she had always testified for him. This good lady thought herself bound by duty, as she was led by love, to make a thorough enquiry into the character of the young person her nephew was about to marry; she was acquainted with many who had been in company with Miss Betsy, and were witnesses of her behaviour; she asked the opinion of those among them, whom she looked upon as the most candid, concerning the match now on the carpet, and was extremely troubled to find their answers were no way conformable to the idea Mr. Trueworth had endeavoured to inspire her with of his mistress's perfections: they all, indeed, agreed that she was handsome, well-shaped, genteel, had a good deal of wit, vivacity, and good-humour; but shook their heads when any of those requisites to make the married state agreeable were mentioned.

Poor Miss Betsy, as the reader has had but too much opportunities to observe, was far from setting forth to any advantage the real good qualities she was possessed of: on the contrary, the levity of her conduct rather disfigured the native innocence of her mind, and the purity of her intentions; so that, according to the poet—

'All saw her spots, but few her brightness took.'

The old lady not being able to hear any thing concerning her intended niece, but what was greatly to her dissatisfaction, was continually remonstrating to Mr. Trueworth, that the want of solidity in a wife was one of the worst misfortunes that could attend a marriage-state; that the external beauties of the person could not atone for the internal defects of the mind; that a too great gaiety du cœur, frequently led women into errors without their designing to be guilty of them; and conjured him to consider well before the irrevocable words, 'I take you for better and for worse,' were passed, how ill it would suit, either with his honour, or his peace of mind, if she whom he now wished to make his partner for life should, after she became so, behave in the same manner she did now.

Mr. Trueworth listened to what she said, with all the attention she could desire; but was too passionately in love to be much influenced by it: not that he did not see there were some mistakes in the conduct of Miss Betsy, which he could wish reformed, yet he could not look upon them as so dangerous to her virtue and reputation, and therefore omitted no arguments, which he thought might justify his choice, and clear the accused fair one from all blame, in the eyes of a person whose approbation he was very desirous of obtaining.

The warmth with which he spoke, convinced his aunt, that to oppose his inclinations in this point was only warring with the winds; she desisted from speaking any more against the marriage, and contented herself with telling him, that since he was bent on making Miss Betsy his wife, she should be glad if, at least, he would remove her into the country, and prevent her returning to this town as long as possible.

This last council had a great deal of weight with Mr. Trueworth; he had often wished in his heart, when seeing her, as he often did, encompassed with a crowd of such whom his good understanding made him despise, that if ever he became her husband, it might be in his power to prevail on her to break off acquaintance with the greatest part of those she at present conversed with; and now being admitted to entertain her with more freedom and seriousness than ever, he resolved to sound her sentiments on that score, and try to discover how far she could relish the retirements of a country life.

Accordingly, the next visit he made to her, he began to represent, in the most pathetick terms he was able, the true felicity that two people, who loved each other, might enjoy when remote from the noise and interruption of a throng of giddy visitors. 'The deity of soft desires,' said he, 'flies the confused glare of pomp and publick shews; it is in the shady-bowers, or on the banks of a sweet purling stream, he spreads his downy wings, and wafts ten thousand nameless pleasures on the fond, the innocent, and the happy pair.'

He was going on, but she interrupted him with a loud laugh; 'Hold, hold!' cried she, 'was there ever such a romantick description? I wonder how such silly ideas come into your head? "Shady bowers! and purling streams!" Heavens, how insipid! Well,' continued she, 'you may be the Strephon of the woods, if you think fit; but I shall never envy the happiness of the Chloe that accompanies you in these fine recesses. What, to be cooped up like a tame dove, only to coo, and bill, and breed? O it would be a delicious life indeed!'

Mr. Trueworth now perceived, to his no small vexation, the late seriousness he had observed in Miss Betsy, and which had given him so much satisfaction, was no more than a short-lived interval, a sudden start of reason and recollection, soon dissipated, and that her temper, in reality, was still as light, as wild, and as inconsiderate as ever. The ridicule with which she treated what he said, did not, however, hinder him from proceeding in the praise of a country life; but happening to say, that innocence could no where else be so secure, she presently took up the word and with a disdainful air replied, that innocence in any one but an idiot, might be secure in any place; to which he retorted, that reason was at some times absent, even in those who had the greatest share of it at others.

Many smart repartees passed between them on this subject, in most of which Miss Betsy had the better; but Mr. Trueworth, not willing to give up the point, reminded her that Solomon, the most luxuriant, and withal the wisest of men, pronounced, that all the gaieties and magnificence of the earth were vanity and vexation of spirit. 'He did so,' replied she, with a scornful smile; 'but it was not till he had enjoyed them all, and was grown past the power of enjoying yet farther: when I am so, it is possible I may say the same.'

Mr. Trueworth, finding she was pretty much stung at some things he had said, and conscious that in his discourse he had in some measure forgot the respect due from a lover to his mistress, would not pursue the topick any farther; but, as artfully as he could, turned the conversation on things more agreeable to Miss Betsy's way of thinking: he could not, however, after they had parted, forbear ruminating on the contempt she had shewn of a country life, and was not so easy as the submissiveness of his passion made him affect to be, on taking leave. This was, however, a matter of light moment to him, when compared with what soon after ensued.

I believe, that from the last letter of Miss Forward to Miss Betsy, the reader may suspect it was not by a kinsman she was maintained: but it is proper to be more particular on that affair, and shew how that unfortunate creature, finding herself utterly discarded by her father, and abandoned to the utmost distresses, accepted the offer made her by a rich Jew merchant, of five guineas a week to be his mistress.

But, as few woman who have once lost the sense of honour, ever recover it again, but, on the contrary, endeavour to lose all sense of shame also, devote themselves to vice, and act whatever interest or inclination prompts them to; Miss Forward could not content herself with the embraces nor allowances of her keeper, but received both the presents and caresses of as many as she had charms to attract.

Sir Bazil Loveit was a great favourite with her; and if, among such a plurality, one might be said to have the preference, it was he: this young baronet had been intimately acquainted with Mr. Trueworth abroad; they had travelled together through the greatest part of Italy, and had been separated only by Mr. Trueworth's being called home on account of some family affairs. Sir Bazil being but lately arrived, they had not seen each other since; till, meeting by accident in a coffee-house, they renewed their former friendship. After the usual compliments, Mr. Trueworth proposed passing the evening together; to which Sir Bazil replied, that he should be glad of the opportunity, but was engaged to sup with a lady: 'But,' said he, after a pause, 'it is where I can be free, and you shall go with me.' To which the other having consented, Sir Bazil told him, as they were going towards the house, that there would be no occasion to use much ceremony; for it was only to a lady of pleasure he was conducting him: but added, that she was a fine girl, seemed to have been well brought up, had been but lately come upon the town, and behaved with more modesty than most of her profession.

Mr. Trueworth had never any great relish for the conversation of these sort of women; much less now, when his whole heart was taken up with an honest passion for a person who, in spite of the little errors of her conduct, he thought deserving of his affections: yet, as he had given his promise, he imagined that to go back on it would be too precise, and subject him to the raillery of his less scrupulous friend.

Miss Forward (for it was she to whom this visit was made) received them in a manner which justified the character Sir Bazil had given of her. There was, however, a certain air of libertinism, both in her looks and gestures, which would have convinced Mr. Trueworth, if he had not been told before, that she was one of those unhappy creatures, who make traffick of their beauty. The gentlemen had not been there above a quarter of an hour, before a maid-servant came into the room, and told Miss Forward, that a young lady, who said her name was Thoughtless, was at the door in a chair, and desired to see her: 'O my dear Miss Betsy Thoughtless!' cried she, 'desire her to walk up immediately.'—'This is lucky,' said Sir Bazil, 'I wanted a companion for my friend; now each man will have his bird.'—'Hush,' cried Miss Forward, 'I can assure you she is virtuous; take care what you say.'

Mr. Trueworth was so much alarmed at hearing the name of Miss Betsy, that, being retired to a window in order to recover himself from the confusion, he heard not what Miss Forward had said to Sir Bazil: Miss Betsy presently entering the room, Miss Forward ran to embrace her, saying, 'My dear Miss Betsy, how glad I am to see you!' To which the other returned, 'My dear Miss Forward, how ashamed am I to have been so long absent! but one foolish thing or other has still prevented me coming.'

Sir Bazil then saluted her with a great deal of politeness, though with less respect than doubtless he would have done, had he seen her in any other place. Mr. Trueworth, who by this time had resolved in what manner he should act, now turned, and advanced towards the company; Miss Betsy, on seeing him, cried out in some surprize, 'Mr. Trueworth! Good God! who thought of finding you here?'—'You did not, Madam, I dare answer,' replied he, with a very grave air, 'and I as little expected the honour of meeting you here.'—'O you are acquainted, then,' said Sir Bazil, laughing; 'this is merry enough; I find we are all right!'

Mr. Trueworth made no direct answer to this; but endeavoured to assume a gaiety conformable to that of the company he was in: after some little time being passed in discoursing on ordinary affairs, Miss Forward took Miss Betsy into the next room to return the money she had been so kind to lend her at Mrs. Nightshade's; and told her, she had much to say to her, but could not be so rude to leave the gentlemen for any long time. While they were absent, which indeed was not above half a minute, 'This is a delicious girl,' said Sir Bazil to Mr. Trueworth, 'i'faith, Charles, you will have the best of the market to-night.' What reply Mr. Trueworth would have made is uncertain; the ladies returned that instant, and the conversation became extremely sprightly, though, on Sir Bazil's part, sometimes interspersed with expressions not altogether consistent with that decorum he would have observed towards women of reputation.

Miss Betsy, far from thinking any ill herself, took every thing as well meant, and replied to whatever was uttered by this gay young gentleman, with a freedom which, to those who knew her not perfectly, might justly render liable to censure. Mr. Trueworth would fain have taken some share, if possible, in this conversation, in order to conceal the perplexity of his thoughts, but all his endeavours were ineffectual; and though his words were sometimes gay, the tone with which he spoke them plainly shewed, that his heart was very far from corresponding with his expressions.

Sir Bazil having ordered a handsome supper, Miss Betsy staid till it was over, and then rose up, and took her leave; saying, she was obliged to go home and write some letters. As none of them had any equipage there, a hackney-coach was ordered to be called; and Mr. Trueworth offering to accompany her, Sir Bazil, on waiting on them down stairs, said to him some merry things on the occasion; which, though Miss Betsy did not comprehend, her lover understood the meaning of but too well for his peace of mind.