I respectfully withdrew into the next room, that Mrs. Moore might acquaint her, (I durst not myself), that I was her lodger and boarder, as, whisperingly, I desired that she would; and meeting Miss Rawlins in the passage, Dearest Miss Rawlins, said I, stand my friend; join with Mrs. Moore to pacify my spouse, if she has any new flights upon my having taken lodgings, and intending to board here. I hope she will have more generosity than to think of hindering a gentlewoman from letting her lodgings.
I suppose Mrs. Moore, (whom I left with my fair-one), had apprised her of this before Miss Rawlins went in; for I heard her say, while I withheld Miss Rawlins—“No, indeed: he is much mistaken—surely he does not think I will.”
They both expostulated with her, as I could gather from bits and scraps of what they said; for they spoke so low, that I could not hear any distinct sentence, but from the fair perverse, whose anger made her louder. And to this purpose I heard her deliver herself in answer to different parts of their talk to her:—“Good Mrs. Moore, dear Miss Rawlins, press me no further:—I cannot sit down at table with him!”
They said something, as I suppose in my behalf—“O the insinuating wretch! What defence have I against a man, who, go where I will, can turn everyone, even of the virtuous of my sex, in his favour?”
After something else said, which I heard not distinctly—“This is execrable cunning!—Were you to know his wicked heart, he is not without hope of engaging you two good persons to second him in the vilest of his machinations.”
How came she, (thought I, at the instant), by all this penetration? My devil surely does not play me booty. If I thought he did, I would marry, and live honest, to be even with him.
I suppose then they urged the plea which I hinted to Miss Rawlins at going in, that she would not be Mrs. Moore’s hindrance; for thus she expressed herself—“He will no doubt pay you your own price. You need not question his liberality; but one house cannot hold us.—Why, if it would, did I fly from him, to seek refuge among strangers?”
Then, in answer to somewhat else they pleaded—“ ’Tis a mistake, Madam; I am not reconciled to him, I will believe nothing he says. Has he not given you a flagrant specimen of what a man he is, and of what his is capable, by the disguises you saw him in? My story is too long, and my stay here will be but short; or I could convince you that my resentments against him are but too well founded.”
I suppose that they pleaded for her leave for my dining with them; for she said—“I have nothing to say to that: it is your own house, Mrs. Moore—it is your own table—you may admit whom you please to it, only leave me at my liberty to choose my company.”
Then, in answer, as I suppose, to their offer of sending her up a plate—“A bit of bread, if you please, and a glass of water; that’s all I can swallow at present. I am really very much discomposed. Saw you not how bad I was? Indignation only could have supported my spirits!—
“I have no objections to his dining with you, Madam;” added she, in reply, I suppose, to a farther question of the same nature—“But I will not stay a night in the same house where he lodges.”
I presume Miss Rawlins had told her that she would not stay dinner: for she said—“Let me not deprive Mrs. Moore of your company, Miss Rawlins. You will not be displeased with his talk. He can have no design upon you.”
Then I suppose they pleaded what I might say behind her back, to make my own story good:—“I care not what he says or what he thinks of me. Repentance and amendment are all the harm I wish him, whatever becomes of me!”
By her accent she wept when she spoke these last words.
They came out both of them wiping their eyes; and would have persuaded me to relinquish the lodgings, and to depart till her uncle’s friend came. But I knew better. I did not care to trust the Devil, well as she and Miss Howe suppose me to be acquainted with him, for finding her out again, if once more she escaped me.
What I am most afraid of is, that she will throw herself among her own relations; and, if she does, I am confident they will not be able to withstand her affecting eloquence. But yet, as thou’lt see, the Captain’s letter to me is admirably calculated to obviate my apprehensions on this score; particularly in that passage where it is said, that her uncle thinks not himself at liberty to correspond directly with her, or to receive applications from her—but through Captain Tomlinson, as is strongly implied.203
I must own, (notwithstanding the revenge I have so solemnly vowed), that I would very fain have made for her a merit with myself in her returning favour, and have owed as little as possible to the mediation of Captain Tomlinson. My pride was concerned in this: and this was one of my reasons for not bringing him with me.—Another was, that, if I were obliged to have recourse to his assistance, I should be better able, (by visiting without him), to direct him what to say or do, as I should find out the turn of her humour.
I was, however, glad at my heart that Mrs. Moore came up so seasonably with notice that dinner was ready. The fair fugitive was all in all. She had the excuse for withdrawing, I had time to strengthen myself; the Captain had time to come; and the lady to
