 CHAPTER XVII Lady Melison, having vented her spleen on those who by their stations were obliged to hear it, the object of it removed out of the house became extremely cheerful the remaining part of the day. The fashion in which it might be supposed Miss Betsy would be accosted by the tarpland and amorado, and the reception she would give his passion occasioned a good deal of merriment, and even Mr. Goodman feeling his dear wife took part in it would sometimes throw in his joke. "'Well, well,' cried Miss Betsy, to heighten the diversion, "'what would you say now if I should take a fancy to the captain, so far as to prefer him to any of those who think it worth their while to solicit me on the score of love?' "'This is quite ungenerous in you,' cried Miss Flora, "'did you not promise to turn the captain over to me when you had done with him?' "'That may not happen a great while,' replied the other, "'for I assure you I have seen him three or four times when he has called me here on business to Mr. Goodman, and I think to part with the lover of his formidable aspect would be to deprive myself of the most conspicuous of my whole train of admirers. "'But suppose,' continued she, in the same gay strain, "'I resigned to you, Mr. Staple or Mr. Trueworth, would not that do as well?' "'Do not put me in the head of either of them, I beseech you,' said Miss Flora, for fear I should think too seriously on the matter, and it should not be in your power to oblige me.' "'All that must be left to chance,' cried Miss Betsy, "'but so far I dare promise you, as to do enough to make them heartily weary of their courtship to me, and at liberty to make their dresses elsewhere.' After this they fell into some conversation concerning the merits of the two last mentioned gentlemen. They allowed Mr. Staple to have the finest face, and that Mr. Trueworth was the best-shaped, and had the most graceful air in everything he did. Mr. Staple had an infinity of gaiety both in his look and behavior. Mr. Trueworth had no less of sweetness, and if his deportment seemed somewhat too serious for a man of his years, it was well attuned by the excellence of his understanding. Miss Flora, however, said upon the whole that both of them were charming men, and Lady Melison added that it was a great pity either of them should have bestowed his heart where there was so little likelihood of receiving any recompense. "'Why so, my dear,' cried Mr. Goodman, "'if my pretty charge is at present in a humour to make as many fools as she can in this world, I hope she is not determined to lead apes in another. I warrant she will change her mind one time or other. I only wish she may not, as the old saying is, outstand her market.' While they were thus discoursing, a servant brought a letter from Mr. Staple directed to Miss Betsy Thoughtless, which was immediately delivered to her. On being told from whence it came, she gave it to Mr. Goodman, saying, "'I shall make no secrets of the contents. Therefore, dear guardian, read it for the benefit of the company.' Mr. Goodman shook his hand at the little sensibility she testified of his friends-devoirs, but said nothing, being willing to gratify the curiosity he doubted not, but they were all in. Miss Betsy herself not accepted, as careless as she affected to be, which he did by reading in an audible voice these lines. "'To the most amiable and most accomplished of her sex, madame. Like the face is the index of the mind, as I think one of your best poets takes upon him to assert. Your soul must certainly be all made up of harmony and consequently take delight in what has so great a similitude of its own heavenly nature. I flatter myself, therefore, you will not be offended, that I presume to entreat you with grace with your preference, a piece of music composed by the so justly celebrated Signor Bonocini, and I hope will have justice done it in the performance, they being the best hands in town that are employed. I do myself the honour to enclose tickets for the ladies of Mr. Goodman's family and beg leave to wait on you, this afternoon, in the pleasing expectation, not only of being permitted to attend you to the concert, but also of an opportunity of renewing those humblance and seer professions by yesterday began to make, of a passion which only charms such as yours could have the power of inspiring in any heart, and can be felt by none with greater warmth, the zeal, tenderness, and respect, than by that of him who is, and ever must be, madame, your most passionate and most faithful admirer, T. Staple. P.S., if there are any other ladies of your queens, to whom you think the entertainment may be agreeable, be pleased to make the invitation. I shall bring tickets with me to accommodate whoever you choose to accompany you. Once more I beseech you, madame, to believe me as above yours, etc. Mr. Goodman had scarce finished reading this letter when Lady Melison and her daughter both cried out at the same time. Oh, Miss Betsy! How unlucky this happens! What will you do with the captain now? We will take him with us to the concert, replied she, and in my opinion nothing could have fallen out more fortunately. The captain has appointed to visit me at five. Mr. Staple will doubtless be here about that time, if not before, in order to usher us to the entertainment, so that my tar cannot expect any answer from me to this letter, and consequently I shall gain time. Though Mr. Goodman was far from approving this way of proceeding, he could not forbear smiling with the rest, at Miss Betsy's contrivance, and told her it was a pity she was not a man. She would have made a rare minister of state. Well, since it is so, said Lady Melison, I will have the honor of complimenting the captain with the ticket Mr. Staple intended for me. Both Miss Flora and Miss Betsy pressed her ladyship to be of their company. And Mr. Goodman likewise endeavored to persuade her to go, but she excused herself, saying, A concert was never among the number of those entertainments she took pleasure in, on which they left off speaking any further on it. But Miss Betsy was not at a loss in her own mind to guess the true reason of her ladyship's refusal, and looked on it as a confirmation of the truth of what Nanny had told her concerning the diamond necklace. There seemed notwithstanding one difficulty still remaining for Miss Betsy to get over, which was the probability of Mr. Trueworth's making her a visit that afternoon. She did not choose to leave him to go to the concert, nor yet to ask him to accompany them to it, because she thought it would be easy for a man of his penetration to discover that Mr. Staple was his rival, which she was by no means willing he should do before he had made a declaration to her of his own passion. She was beginning to consider how she should manage in a point which she looked upon as pretty delicate, when a letter from that gentleman eased her of all the apprehensions she at present had on the score, the manner in which she expressed himself was as follows. To Miss Betsy Thoughtless, Madam I remember as what can be forgot in which you have the least concern. At the first time I had the honor of seeing you at Oxford you seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in the pretty tricks of a squirrel, which a lady in the company had on her arm. One of those animals, which they tell me has been lately catched, happening to fall in my way, I take the liberty of presenting him to you, in treating you will permit him to give you such diversion as is in his power. Were the little denizen of the woods endued with any share of human reason, how happy would he think himself in the loss of his liberty, and how hug those chains which entitle him to so glorious a servitude. I had waited on you in person, in the hope of obtaining pardon for approaching you was so trifling an offering, but I'm deprived of that satisfaction by the pressing commands of an old aunt who insists on my passing this evening with her. But what need is there to apologize for the absence of a person so little known to you, and whose sentiments are yet less so? I rather ought to fear that the frequency of those visits I shall hear after make may be looked upon as taking too presuming an advantage of the permission you have been so good to give me. I will not, however, anticipate so great a misfortune, but endeavor to prevent it by proving by all the ways I am able that I am, with the most profound submission, madam, your very humble, obedient, and eternally devoted servant, C. Trueworth. Miss Betsy, after having read this letter, ordered the person who brought it should come into the parlor, on which he delivered to her the present mentioned in the letter, which she received with a great deal of sweetness, gave the fellow something to drink her health, and sent her service to his master, with thanks and an assurance that she should be glad to see him whenever it suited with his convenience. All the ladies then began to examine the squirrel which was doubtless the most beautiful creature of its kind that could be purchased. The chain which fastened it to its habitation was gold, the links very thick and curiously wrought. One admired the elegance of the donor's taste. Miss Betsy herself was charmed to in excess, both with the letter and the present, but as much as she was pleased with the respectful passion of Mr. Trueworth, she could not find it in her heart to think of parting with the acidities, Mr. Stable, nor even the blunt addresses of Captain Hyphone, at least till she had exercised all the power her beauty gave her over them. As the two last mentioned gentlemen were the friends of Mr. Goodman, he went out somewhat before the hour in which either of them was expected to come, choosing not to seem to know what it was not in his power to amend, undetermined as he had promised Miss Betsy not to interfere between her and any of those who pretended to court her. These two lovers came to the door at the same time, and Mr. Stable sang to the footman that opened the door that he was come to wait on Miss Betsy. I want to speak to that young gentlewoman too, cried the Captain, if she be at leisure. Tell her my name is Hyphone. Mr. Stable was immediately showed up into the dining room and the Captain in the parlor. Two Miss Betsy should be told his name. That spark, said he to himself, I find is known here. I suppose he is one of those Mr. Goodman told me of, and that has a mind to Miss Betsy. But as she knew I was to be here, I think she might have left some orders concerning me and not make me wait till that young Gigaul had spoke his mind to her. The fellow, not coming down immediately, he grew very angry and began to call and knock with his cane against the floor, which, it may be easily imagined, gave some support to those above. Miss Betsy, however, having told Mr. Stable the character of the man, and the diversion she intended to make of his pretensions, would not vex him too much, and to a tone for having made him attend so long, went to the top of the stairs herself and desired him to walk up. The reception she gave him was full of all the sweetness she could assume, and excused having made him wait and laid the blame on the servant who she pretended could not presently recollect his name. This put him into an exceeding good humor. Nay, fair lady, said he, as to that I have stayed much longer sometimes before I could get to the speech of some people who I have not half the respect for as I have for you, but you know, continued he, giving her a kiss the smack of which might be heard three rooms off, that I have business with you, business that requires dispatch, and that made me a little impatient. All the company had much adieu to refrain from laughing outright, but Miss Betsy kept her countenance to a miracle. We will talk of business another time, said she. We are going to hear a fine entertainment of music. You must not refuse giving us your company. Lady Melisyn has got a ticket on purpose for you. I am very much obliged to her, Lady Ship, replied the captain, but I do not know whether Miss Goodman may think well of it or not, for he would feign to put me off from visiting his charge here. I soon found by his way of speaking the wind did not fit fair for me from that quarter, so tacked about, shifted my sails, and stood for the port directly. Manfully resolved indeed, said Mr. Staples, but I hope, Captain, you have kept a good look out, in order to avoid any ship of greater burden that might else chance to overset you. Oh, sir, as to that, replied the captain, you might have spared yourself the trouble of giving me this caution. There are only two small pinks in my way, and they had best stand clear, or I shall run foul on them. Now Mr. Staples had been apprised beforehand of the captain's pretenses, and that Miss Betsy intended to encourage them only by way of amusement to herself and friends, yet the rough manner in which his rival had uttered these words brought the blood into his cheeks, which Lady Melisyn perceiving and fearing that what was began in, just might, in the end, become more serious than could be withstood, turned the conversation, and addressing herself to the captain on the score of what he had said concerning Mr. Goodman made many apologies for her husband's behaviour in this point, assured him that he had not a more sincere friend in the world, nor one who would be more ready to serve him in whatever was in his power. The captain had a fond of great good nature in his heart, but was somewhat too much addicted to passion, and frequently apt to resent without a cause. But when once convinced he had been in the wrong, no one could be more ready to acknowledge and ask pardon for his mistake. He had been bred at sea, his conversation for almost his whole life had been chiefly among those of his own occupation. He was altogether unacquainted with the manners and behaviour of the polite world and equally estranger to what is called gentile railery as he was to courtly complacence. It is not therefore to be wondered at that he was often rude, without designing to be so, and took many things as affronts which were not meant as such. Miss Betsy Mellison, who never wanted words and knew how to express herself in the most persuasive terms whenever she pleased to make use of them, had the address to convince the captain that Mr. Goodman was no enemy to his suit, though he would not appear to encourage it. While the captain was engaged with her ladyship in this discourse, Miss Betsy took the opportunity of telling Mr. Staple that she insisted upon it, that he should be very civil to arrival from whose pretensions he might be certain he had nothing to apprehend, and moreover that when she gave him her hand to lead her into the concert room he should give his to Miss Flora without discovering the least marks of discontent. The lover looked on this last injunction as too severe a trial of his patience, but she would need to have it so, and he was under necessity of obeying or of suffering much greater mortification from her displeasure. Soon after this they all four went to the entertainment in Mr. Goodman's coach, which Lady Mellison had ordered to be got ready. The captain was mildly pleased with the music and had judgment enough in it to know it was better than the band he had on board his ship. When they have done playing, said he, I will ask them what they will have to go with me on the next voyage. While Mr. Staple told him it would be in a front, that they were men who got more by their instruments than the best officer either by sea or landed by his commission. This mistake, as well as many others the captain fell into, made not only the company he was with but those who sat near enough to hear him. A good deal of diversion. Nothing of moment happening either here or at Mr. Goodman's, where they all suck together, it would be needless to repeat any particulars of the conversation which had been said already of their different sentiments and behavior, maybe of sufficient sample of the whole. Treats on no fresh matters but serves to heighten those already mentioned. Mr. Goodman had stayed abroad till very late that night the concert had been performed, so was not a witness of anything that had passed after the company came home. But on Lady Mellison's repeating to him everything she remembered was very well pleased to hear that she had reconciled the captain to him, though extremely sorry that the blunt, ill-judged affection of that gentleman had exposed him to the ridicule, not only of Miss Betsy, but also of all her followers. That young lady, in the meantime, was far from having any commiseration for the anxiety of those who loved her. On the contrary she triumphed in the pain she gave, if it can be supposed that she, who was altogether ignorant of them in herself, could look upon them as sincere in others. But I am apt to believe ladies of this craft regard all the protestations of love made to them, as indeed many of them are, only as words of course. The prerogative of youth and beauty in the one sex, and a duty incumbent on the other to pay, they value themselves on the number and quality of their lovers, as they do upon the number and richness of their clothes, because it makes them of consideration in the world. And never take the trouble of reflecting how dear it may sometimes cost those to whom they are indebted for indulging this vanity. That this, at least, was the motive which induced Miss Betsy to treat her lovers in the manner she did, is evident to a demonstration from every other action of her life. She had a certain softness in her disposition which rendered her incapable of knowing the distress of any one, without affording all the relief that was in her power to give, and had she sooner been convinced of the reality of the woes of love, she sooner had left off the ambition of inflicting them, and perhaps have been brought to regard those who labored under them, rather with too much than too little compassion. But of this the reader will be able to judge on proceeding further in this history. There were now three gentlemen, who all of them addressed this young lady in the most honorable terms. Yet did her giddy mind make no distinction between the serious passion they had for her, and the idle gallantries she received from those who either had no design in making them, or such as tended to her undoing. Impatient to hear in what manner Mr. Trueworth would declare himself, and imagining he would come the next day as he had made so handsome an apology for not having waited on her the preceding one, she told Mr. Staples and Captain Hyphem in order to prevent their coming, that she was engaged to pass that whole afternoon and evening with some ladies for her acquaintance. Neither the Captain nor Mr. Staples suspected the truth of what she said, but the former was in too much haste to know some issue of his fate to be quite contented with this delay. Miss Betsy was not deceived in her expectations. Soon after dinner was over she was told Mr. Trueworth had sent to know if she was at home and begged to leave to wait upon her. Lady Mellison, having a great deal of company that day in the dining room, she went into an adjacent one to receive him. He was charmed at finding her alone, a happiness he could not flatter himself with on entering the house. He was assured by the number of footmen that he saw in the hall that many visitors were there before him. This unexpected piece of good fortune as he had then thought it, especially as he found her playing with the squirrel he had sent to her the day before, so much elated him that it brightened his whole aspect and gave a double share of vivacity to his eyes. May I hope you're pardoned, madam, said he, for presuming to approach you with so trifling a present. Is that little creature? Oh, Mr. Trueworth, answer she, I will not forgive you if you speak slight of my squirrel, though I am indebted to you for the pleasure he gives me. I love him excessively. You could not have made me a more obliging present. How, madam, cried he, I should be miserable indeed if I had nothing in my power to offer more worthy your acceptance than that animal. What think you, madam, of an adoring and passionately devoted heart? A heart, rejoined she. Oh, dear, a heart may be a pretty thing, for ought I know to the contrary. But there is such an enclosure of flesh and bone about it that it is utterly impossible for one to see into it and consequently to know whether one likes it or not. The heart, madam, in the sense, I mean, said he, implies the soul, which being a spirit and invisible can only be known by its effects. If the whole services of mine may render it an oblation, such as may obtain a gracious reception from the amiable misthoughtless, I shall bless the hour in which I first beheld her charms as the most fortunate one I ever had to boast of. In ending these words he kissed her hand with a look full of the greatest respect and tenderness. She then told him the services of the soul must needs be valuable because they were sincere. But as she knew not of what nature those services were he intended to render her, he must excuse her for not too readily accepting him, on which is not to be doubted but that he assured her they should be only such as were dictated by the most pure affections and accompanied by the strictest honor. He was going on with such protestations as may be imagined a man so much enamored would make to the object of his wishes, when he was interrupted by Miss Flora, who came hastily into the room and told him that her mama, hearing that he was in the house, expected he would not leave it without letting her have the pleasure of seeing him, that they were just going to tea, and that her ladyship entreated he would join the company with those friends she had already with her. Mr. Trueworth would have been glad to have found some plausible pretense for not complying with this invitation. But as he could not make any that would not be looked on as favoring aville manners, and Miss Betsy insisted on his going, they all went together into the dining-room. The Lover had now no further opportunity of prosecuting his suit in this visit, but he made another the next day, more early than before, and found no body but Mr. Goodman with Miss Betsy, either to buy something they wanted or to tumble over goods as they frequently did, merely for the sake of seeing new fashions. Mr. Trueworth, having never been seen by Mr. Goodman, Miss Betsy presented him to him with these words. Sir, this is a gentleman from Oxford, an intimate friend of Brother Franks, who did me the favor to bring me a letter from him. There needed no more to make Mr. Goodman know both who he was and the business on which he came. He received him with a great deal of good manners, but knowing his absence would be most agreeable after some few compliments, pretended he was called abroad by urgent business and took his leave. How much it rejoiced the sincerely devoted heart of Mr. Trueworth to find himself once more alone with the idol of his wishes may easily be conceived by those who have had any experience of the passion he so deeply felt. But his felicity was of short continuance, and he profited but little by the complacence of Mr. Goodman. He was but just beginning to pour forth some part of those tender sentiments with which his soul ever flowed, when he was prevented from proceeding by a second interruption, much more disagreeable than the former had been. Mr. Staples and Captain Hypham, for whom Miss Betsy had not left the same order she had done the day before, came both to visit her. The former had the advantage of being there somewhat sooner than the other, and accosted her with an air which made the enamored heart of Mr. Trueworth immediately beat an alarm to jealousy. Mr. Staples, who had seen him there once before when he brought her brother's letter to her, did not presently know him for his rival, nor imagined he any other intent in his visits than to pay his compliments to the sister of his friend. They were all three engaged in a conversation which had nothing particular in it, when Miss Betsy was told Captain Hypham desired to speak with her, on which she bid the fellow desire him to walk in. He is in the back parlor, madam, replied he. I told him you had any, so he desires you will come to him there, for he says he has great business with you and must need speak with you. Both Miss Betsy and Mr. Staples laughed immoderately at this message. But Mr. Trueworth, who was not in on the secret, looked a little grave as not knowing what to think of it. You would scarce believe, sir, said Mr. Staples to him, that this Embassy came from the Court of Cupid, yet I assure you the Captain is one of this lady's most passionate admirers. Yes, indeed, added Miss Betsy, and threatens terrible things to every one who should dare to dispute the conquest of my heart with him. But go, continued she, to the footman. Tell him I have friends with me whom I cannot be so rude to leave and that I insist on him giving us his company in this room. The Captain, on this, was prevailed upon to come in, though not very well pleased at finding himself obliged to do so by the positive commands of his mistress. He paid his respects, however, in his blunt manner to the gentleman as well as Miss Betsy, and having drawn his chairs near her as he could. I hoped, madam, that he you would have found an opportunity of speaking to me before now. You must needs think I am a little uneasy till I know what I have to depend upon. Bless me, sir, cried she, you talking in an odd manner. And then, continued she, pointing to Mr. Trueworth, this gentleman here, who is a friend of my brothers, will think I have outrun my income and that you come to done me for money borrowed of you. No, no, answered he, as to that you owe me nothing but good will, and that I think I deserve for the respect I have for you if it were for nothing else. But, madam, I should be glad to know some answer to the business I wrote you upon. Lord, sir, replied she, I have not yet had time to think upon it, much less to resolve on anything. That is strange, resumed he, why you have had three days and sure that is long enough to think and resolve, too, on anything. Not for me indeed, Captain answered she, laughing. But come, here are just four of us. What thank you, gentlemen, of a game of quadril to kill time. Mr. Trueworth and Mr. Staples told her at once, and they approved the motion, and she was just going to call for cars and fishes. When the Captain stopped her, saying, I never loved play in my life and have no time to kill, as may have these gentlemen have, who just likely have nothing else to do than to dress and visit. I have a great deal of business upon my hands. The ship is taking in her landing, and I do not know, but we may sail in six or seven days, so must desire you would fix a day for us to be alone together that I may know at once what it is you designed to do. Five, Captain replied she, how can you think of such a thing? I assure you, sir, added she, with an affected disdain, I never make appointments with gentlemen. That, I believe, said he, but you should consider that I live a great way off, to a long walk from mile end to St. James, and I hate your jolting hackney coaches. Besides, I may come and come again and never be able to get a word with you in private in an afternoon, and all the morning I am engaged either at the India house or at change. Therefore I should think it is better for both of us not to stand shilly-shelly, but come to the point at once. For looky, fair lady, if we happen to agree there will be little enough time to settle everything, as I am obliged to go so soon. Too little, in my opinion, sir, answered she, therefore I think it best to defer talking any more of the matter till you come back. Come back, cried he, why do you consider I shall be gone three years? Really, sir, said she, as I told you before I have never considered anything about it, nor can promise I shall be able to say any more to you at the end of twice the time you mention, then I can do it present, which I assure you is just nothing at all. Though both Mr. Trueworth and Mr. Staple had too much good manners to do anything that might affront the captain, yet neither of them could refrain their laughter so well as to prevent some marks of the inclination they had for it from being visible on their faces. And willing to contribute something on their parts to the diversion they perceived she gave herself, with a love or so every way unsuitable to her, one told her it was a great pity she did not consult the captain's convenience. The other said that it must need to be a vast fatigue for a gentleman who is accustomed only to walk the quarter-deck, to take a stretch of four miles at once. And all to no purpose cried he that had spoken first, pray, madam, give him his dispatch. As little acquainted as the captain was with Railery, he had understanding enough to make him see that Miss Betsy's behavior to him had rendered him the jest of all the company that visited her, and this he took so ill that all the liking he before had to her was now turned into contempt. Finding they were going on in the ironical way they had begun. "'Look ye, gentlemen,' said he with a pretty stern condense, "'I would advise you to meddle only with such things as concern yourselves. You have nothing to do with me nor I with you. If your errand here be as I suspect it is, there sits one who I dare answer will find you employment enough as long as you shall think it worth your while to dance attendance.' "'As for you, madam,' continued he turning to Miss Betsy, "'I think it would have become you as well to have given me a more civil answer. If you did not approve of my proposals you might have told me so at first. But I shall trouble neither you nor myself any further about the matter. I see how it is well enough, and when next I steer for the coast of matrimony shall take care to look out for a port not combered with rubbish. So you're servant.' As he was going out of the house he met Lady Melison and Miss Flora just entering, being returned from the ramble above mentioned. They saw he was very angry, and with faint it persuaded him to turn back, telling him that if any misunderstanding had happened between him and Miss Betsy they would endeavor to make it up and reconcile them. To which he replied that he thanked them for their love, but he had done with Miss Betsy for good and all, and that she was no more than a young flirt and did not know how to use a gentleman handsomely. Said he should be glad to take a ball of punch with Mr. Goodman before he went on his voyage, but would not come any more to this house to be scoffed at by Miss Betsy and those that came after her. Miss Flora told him that it was unjust in him to deprive her mama and herself of the pleasure of his good company for the fault of Miss Betsy, who, she said, she could not help owing was of a very giddy temper. Lady Melison, to what her daughter had said, added many obliging things in order to prevail on him either to return or renew his visits hereafter. But the captain was obstinate and persisting in his resolution of coming there no more, took his leave, and Miss Flora lost all hope of receiving any benefit from his being rejected by Miss Betsy. CHAPTER 19 Will Make the Reader Little Wiser The greatest part of the time that Mr. Trueworth and Mr. Staples stayed with Miss Betsy was taken up with talking of Captain Heisem, his passion, his behavior, and the manner in which he received his dismission afforded indeed an ample field for conversation. Lady Melison and Miss Flora relating the answers he had given them on their pressing him to come back. Mr. Trueworth said that it must be owned that he had shown a strength of resolution which few men in love could boast of. Love, sir, according to my notions of that passion, replied Mr. Staples, is not to be felt by every heart. Many deceive themselves in this point and take for it what is in reality no more than a bare liking of a beautiful object. The captain seems to me to have a soul as well as form, cast in too rough a mould, to be capable of those refined and delicate ideas which alone constitute and are worthy to be called love. Yet, said Lady Melison, I have heard Mr. Goodman give him an excellent character and, above all, that he is one of the best-natured men breathing. That may be indeed, madam, resumed Mr. Staples, and some allowance is ought to be made for the manner in which he has been bred, though, added he, I have known many commanders, not only of India men, but of other trading vessels, who have all their lifetime used the seas, yet have known how to behave with politeness enough when on shore. Mr. Trueworth agreed with Mr. Staples that, though the amorous declaration of a person of the captain's age and the fashion of bringing up to one of Miss Betsy's exposed him to the deserved ridicule of as many as knew it, yet ought not this particular foy will be any reflection on his occupation which merited to be held in the greatest veneration as the strength and opulence of the nation was owing to its commerce in foreign ports. This was highly obliging to Mr. Staples, whose father had been a merchant, and Mr. Trueworth, being the first who took his leave perceiving the other state supper, he said abundance of handsome things in his praise, and seemed to have conceived so high an esteem of him that Miss Betsy was diverted in her mind to think how he would change his way of speaking when once the secret of his rivalship should come out, as she knew it could not fail to do in a short time. But as easy Mr. Staples was at present on this occasion, Mr. Trueworth was no less anxious and perplexed. He was convinced that the other visited Miss Betsy on no other score than that of love, and appeared to him equally certain by the freedom with which he saw him treated in the family, that he was likewise generally encouraged if not by Miss Betsy herself, at least by her guardian. His thoughts were not wholly taken up with the means, but which he might gain the advantage over a rival whom he looked upon as a formidable one not only for his personal accomplishments, but also for his having the good fortune to address her before himself. All he could do was prevent as much as possible all opportunities of his entertaining Miss Betsy in private till the arrival of Mr. Francis Thoughtless, from whose friendship and the influence he had over his sister he hoped much. He waited on her the next day very early. Mr. Goodman happening to dine that day later than ordinary on account of some friends he had with him, and the cloth not being drawn. Miss Betsy went and received him in another room. Having this favorable opportunity he immediately began to prepare for putting into execution one of those stratagems he had contrived for separating her from Mr. Staples. After some few tender speeches he fell into a discourse concerning the weather, said he was sorry to perceive the day so much shortened that summer would soon be gone, and added that as that beautiful season could last but a small time the most should be made of it. I came, said he, to entreat the favour of you and Miss Flora, to permit me to accompany you in an airing through Brompton, Kensington, Chelsea, and the other little villages on this side of London. Miss Betsy replied that she would go with all her heart and believed she could answer the same for Miss Flora, there being only two grave dons and their wives within, whom she would be glad to be disengaged from. But if not, said she, I can send for a young lady in the neighbourhood who would be glad to give us her company. She sent first, however, to Miss Flora, who immediately came in, and the proposal being made accepted it with pleasure and added that she would ask her mamma for orders for the coach to be got ready. It need not, madam, said Mr. Treworth. My servant is here, and he shall get one from Blunt's. But Miss Flora insisted on their going in Mr. Goodman's, saying she was certain either he nor her mamma would go out that day, as the company they had were come to stay, on which Mr. Treworth complied. When she had left the room, ah, madam, said he to Miss Betsy, could I flatter myself with believing I owe this condesation to any other motive than your complacence to a person who has some share in your brother's friendship. I should be blessed indeed. But ah, I see I have a rival, a rival dangerous to my hopes, not only on the account of his merits, but also as he had the honour of declaring his passion before me. The fortunate Mr. Staples, added he, kissing her hand, may perhaps have already made some impression on that heart I would sacrifice my all to gain, and I am come too late. Rather too soon, replied she, smiling, both of you equally too soon, admitting his sentiments for me to be as you imagine. For I assure you, sir, my heart has hitherto been entirely my own, and is not very likely to incline to the reception of any guest of the nature you mean, for yet a long, long time. Whoever thinks to gain me must not be in a hurry like Captain Heism. Mr. Treworth was about to make some passionate reply when Miss Flora returned, and told them the coach would be ready immediately, for she herself had spoke to the coachman, and bid him put the horses to with all the haste he could, on which the lover expressed his sense of the obligation he had to her for taking this trouble on the politest terms. A person of much less discernment than this gentleman might easily perceive that the way to be agreeable to Miss Betsy was not to be too serious. He therefore assumed all the vivacity he was master of, both before they went and during the whole course of the little tour they made, in which it is not to be doubted, but he regalled them with everything the places they passed through could furnish. The ladies were so well pleased, both with their entertainment and the company of the person who entertained them, that they seemed not in haste to go home, and he had the double satisfaction of enjoying the presence of his mistress and of giving at least one day's disappointment on his rival. He was confirmed in the truth of this conjecture, when, on returning to Mr. Goodman's, which was not till some hours after close of day, the footman who opened the door told Miss Betsy that Mr. Staple had been to wait upon her. After this it may be supposed he had a night of much more tranquility than the preceding one had afforded him. The next morning, as early as he thought decently permitted, he made a visit to Miss Betsy under the pretense of coming to inquire if her health had not suffered by being abroad in the night air, and how she had rested. She received him with a great deal of sprightliness, and replied she found herself so well after it as to be ready for such another jaunt whenever he had a fancy for it. I take you at your word, madam, cried he, transported to here she anticipated what he came on purpose to entree. I am ready this melon, if you please, continued he, and we will either take a barge and go up the river or a coach to Hampstead, or any of those places, just to diversify the scene. You have only to say what you choose. She then told him there was a necessity of deferring their ramble till the afternoon because Miss Flora was abroad and would not return till dinnertime. As to what route we shall take, and everything belonging to it, said she, I leave it entirely to you. I know nobody has a more elegant taste or a better judgment. I have taken care, replied he, to give the world a high opinion of me and both by making my address to the amiable Miss Betsy. But madam, pursued he, since we are alone, will you give me leave to tell you how I have employed my hours this morning, why in dressing, breakfasting, and perhaps a little reading, answer she? A small time, madam, suffices for the two former articles with me, resumed he, but I have indeed been reading, happening to dip into the works of a poet who wrote near a century ago. I found some words so adapted to the situation of my heart and so agreeable to the sense of the answer I was about to make yesterday to what you said concerning the perseverance of a lover, that I could not forbear putting some notes to them which I beg you will give me your opinion of. In speaking these words, he took a piece of paper out of its pocket and sung the following stanza. The patriarch to gain a wife, chased beautiful and young, served fourteen years a painful life and never thought it long. Oh, were you to reward such cares and life so long would stay? Not fourteen but four hundred years would seem but as one day. Mr. Trueworth had a fine voice and great skill in music, having perfected himself in that science from the best masters when he was in Italy. Miss Betsy was so charmed both with the words and the notes that she made him sing them several times over, and afterwards sent them down in her music book to the end that she might get them by heart and join her voice in concert with her spin it. Mr. Trueworth would not make his morning visit too long, believing it might be her time to dress against dinner, as she was now in such a disabilse ladies usually put on on their first rising. So after having received a second promise from her of giving him her company that day abroad, took his leave highly satisfied with the progress he imagined he had made in her good graces. The wind happening to grow a little boisterous, though the weather otherwise was fair and clear, made Mr. Trueworth think a land journey would be more agreeable to the ladies than to venture themselves upon the water. He therefore procured a handsome livery-coach, and attended by his two servants went to Mr. Goodman's. The ladies were already in expectation of him and did not make him wait a moment. Nothing extraordinary happening at this entertainment, nor at those others, which for several succeeding days without interruption Mr. Trueworth prevailed upon his mistress to accept. It would be superfluous to trouble the reader with the particulars of them. Mr. Staples all this time was very uneasy. He had not seen Miss Betsy for a whole week, and though he knew not as yet that he was deprived of that satisfaction by her being engrossed by her rival, yet he now began to be sensible she had less regard for him than he had flattered himself he had inspired her with. And this of itself was a sufficient mortification to a young gentleman who was not only passionately in love but also could not without being guilty of great injustice to his own merits, but think of himself not altogether unworthy of succeeding. This however was no more than a slight sample of the inquietudes which the blind God sometimes inflicts on hearts devoted to him, as will hereafter appear in the progress of this history. CHAPTER 20 CONTAINS AN ODD ACCIDENT WHICH HAPPENED TO Miss Betsy in the Cloisters of Westminster Abbey. Mr. Trueworth, who was yet far from being acquainted with the temper of the object he adored, now thought he had no reason to despair of being one day in possession of all he aimed to obtain. It seemed certain with him, at least, that he had nothing to apprehend from the pretensions of a rival, who at first he had looked upon as so formidable, and no other at present interposed between him and his designs. Miss Betsy in the meanwhile, wholly regardless of who hoped or who disbared, had no aim in anything she did but merely to divert herself, and to that end-laid hold of every opportunity that offered. Mr. Goodman having casually mentioned, as they were at supper, that one Mr. Soulguard had just taken orders, and was to preach his first sermon at Westminster Abbey the next day, she presently had a curiosity of hearing how he would behave in the pulpit, over his modest and, as they termed it, sheepish behavior in company having, as often as he came there, afforded matter of ridicule to her and Miss Flora. These two young ladies there for talking on it after they were in bed agreed to go to the cathedral, not doubting but that they should have enough to laugh at, and repeat to all those of their acquaintance who had ever seen him. What mere trifles! What airy nothing! served to amuse a mind not taken with more effectual matters. Miss Betsy was so full of the diversion she should have in hearing the down-looked, bashful Mr. Soulguard harangue his congregation that she could think and talk of nothing else till the hour arrived when she should go to experience what she had so pleasant an idea of. Miss Flora, who had till now seemed as eager as herself, cried all at once, that her head ached, and that she did not care for stirring out. Miss Betsy, who would feign have laughed her out of it, told her she had only got the vapors, that the parson would cure her, and such like things, but the other was not to be prevailed upon by all Miss Betsy, or even Lady Mellison herself could say, and answered with some sullenness that positively she would not go. Miss Betsy was highly ruffled at this sudden turn of her temper, as it was now too late to send for any other young lady of her acquaintance to go with her. Resolving, nevertheless, not to balk her humor, she ordered a chair to be called and went alone. Neither the young parson's manner of preaching nor the text he chose being any way material to this history, I shall therefore pass over the time of divine service, and only say, that after it was ended Miss Betsy passing towards the West Gate, and stopping to look on the fine tomb erected in the memory of a Mr. Secretary Craig's, was accosted by Mr. Blumaker, a young gentleman who sometimes visited Lady Mellison, and lived at Westminster in which place he had a large estate. He had with him when he came up to her two gentlemen of his acquaintance, but who were entire strangers to Miss Betsy. What, said he, the celebrated Miss Betsy thoughtless, Miss Betsy thoughtless, the idol of mankind, alone, unattended by any of her train of admirers, and contemplating these momentos of mortality? To compliment my understanding, replied she gaily, you should rather have told me I was contemplating the momentos of great actions. You are at the wrong end of the cathedral for that, madam, dear Zoom T., and I don't remember to have heard anything extraordinary of the life of this great man whose effigy makes so fine a figure here, except the favours he received from the ladies. To her too much then to bestow them on him both alive and dead, cried she, therefore we will pass on to some other. Mr. Blumaker had a great deal of wit and vivacity, nor were his two companions deficient in either of these qualities, so that between the three Miss Betsy was very agreeably entertained. They went round from tomb to tomb, and the real characters, as well as epitaphs, some of which are flattering enough, afforded a variety of observations. In fine the conversation was so pleasing to Miss Betsy that she never thought of going home till it grew too dark to examine either the sculpture or the inscriptions. So insensibly does time glide on, when accompanied with satisfaction. But now ensued a mortification which struck a damp on the sprightliness of this young lady, she had sent away the chair which brought her, not doubting but there would be others about the church doors. She knew not how difficult it was to procure such a vehicle in West Minster, especially on a Sunday. To add to her vexation it rained very much, and she was not in a habit fit to travel on foot in any weather, much less in such as this. They went down into the cloisters, in order to find some person whom they might send, either for a coach or chair, for the gentleman would have been glad of such conveniences for themselves as well as Miss Betsy. They walked round and round, several times, without hearing or seeing anybody, but at last a fellow who used to be employed in sweeping the church doors offered his service to procure them what they wanted in case there was a possibility of doing it. They promised to gratify him well for his paint, and he ran with all the speed he could to do as he had said. The rain and wind increased to such a prodigious height that scarce was ever a more tempestuous evening. Almost a whole hour was elapsed, and the men not come back, so that they had reason to fear neither coach nor chair was to be got. Miss Betsy began to grow extremely impatient. The gentleman endeavored all they could to keep her in good humor. "'We have a good stone roof over our heads, madam,' said one of them, and that at present shelters us from the inclinancy of the elements. Besides, cried another, the storm cannot last always, and when it is a little abated, here are three of us, we will take you in our arms by turns and carry you home." All this would not make Miss Betsy laugh, and she was in the utmost agitation of mind to think what she should do when, on a sudden, a door in that part of the cloister which leads to little Dean's yard was opened, and a very young lady, not exceeding eleven years of age but very richly habited, came running out. "'And taking Miss Betsy by the sleeve, madam,' said she, "'I beg to speak with you.' Miss Betsy was surprised, but stepping some paces from the gentleman to hear what she had to say, the other drawing her toward the door, cried, "'Please, madam, to come in here!' On which she followed, and the gentleman stood about some four or five yards distant. Miss Betsy had no sooner reached the threshold, which had a step down into the hall, and pulling her gently down as if to communicate what she had to say with the more privacy, than a footman who stood behind the door immediately clapped at two and put the chain across, as if he had apprehended some violence might be offered to it. Miss Betsy wasn't so much consternation that she was unable to speak one word, till the young lady, who still had hold of her hand, said to her, "'You may thank heaven, madam, that our family happened to be in town. Else I do not know what mischief might have befallen you.' "'Bless me!' cried Miss Betsy, and was going on, but the other interrupted her, saying hastily, as she led her forward, "'Walk this way. My brother will tell you all.' "'Miss Betsy, then, stop short. What means all this?' said she. "'My pray, miss, who is your brother?' To which the other replied that her brother was the Lord Viscount, and that he, at present, was the owner of the house.' The surprise Miss Betsy had been put in by this young lady's first accosting her was not at all dissipated by these words, but had now an equal portion of curiosity added to it. She longed to know the meaning of words which at present seem so mysterious to her, and with what kind of mischief she had been threatened, that she readily accompanied her young conductress into a magnificent parlor at the upper end of which, said the nobleman, she had been told of. "'I am extremely happy,' said he, as soon as he saw her enter, that Providence has put it in my power to rescue so fine a lady from the villainy contrived against her. Miss Betsy replied that she should always be thankful for any favour conferred upon her, but desired to know of what nature they were for which she was indebted to his lordship. Then he told her that the person she had been with had the most baleful designs upon her. That he had heard from a closet window where he was sitting, two of them lay the plot for carrying her off in a hackney-coach, and added that being struck with horror at the foul intention he had contrived by the means of his sister to get her out of their power. There, said he, I know one of them to be so bloody a villain that had I gone out myself I must have fallen a sacrifice to their resentment. Miss Betsy was quite confounded. She knew not how to question the veracity of a nobleman who could have no view or interest to deceive her, yet it was equally incongruous to her that Mr. Bloomaker could harbour any designs upon her of that sort his lordship mentioned. She had several times been in company with that gentleman, and he had never behaved toward her in a manner which could give her room to suspect he had any dishonourable intentions toward her. But then the treatment she had received from the gentleman commoner at Oxford reminded her that men of an amorous complexion want only an opportunity to show those inclinations, which indolence or perhaps in delicacy prevents them from attempting to gratify by acidities and courtship. After having taken some little time to consider what she should say, she replied that she was infinitely obliged to his lordship for the care he took of her, but might be very well amazed to hear those gentlemen had any ill designs upon her, two of whom were perfect strangers to her, and the other often visited at the house where she was boarded. As for the sending for a coach, she said it was by her own desire if no chair could be procured, and added that if his lordship had no other reason to apprehend any will was meant to her, she could not, without injustice, forbear to clear up the mistake. The lord of that manner was a little confounded at these words, but soon recovering himself told her that she knew not the real character of the person she had been with. That blue-maker was one of the greatest libertines in the world, and that though she might agree to have a coach sent for, she could not be sure to what place it might carry her, and that he heard two of them, while the third was entertaining her, speak to each other in a manner which convinced him the most villainous contrivance was about to be practiced on her. A loud knocking at the door now interrupted their discourse, both his lordship and his sister seemed terribly alarmed. All the servants were called, and charge given not to open the door upon any account, to bar up the lower windows, and to give answers from those above to whoever was there. The knocking continued with greater violence than it began, and Miss Spetsy heard the gentleman's voices talking to the servants, and though she could not distinguish what they said, found there were very high words between them. My lord's sister ran into the hall to listen, then came back crying, Oh, what terrible oaths! I am afraid they will break open the door. No, replied the lord. It is too strong for that. But I wish we had been so wise as to send for a constable. One of the servants came down and repeated what their young lady had said, adding that the gentleman swore they would not leave the place till they had spoke with the lady, who they said had been trepanned into that house. On this, suppose my lord said Miss Spetsy, I go to the door, and tell them that I will not go with them. No, madam, answered the lord, I cannot consent my door should be open to such ruffians, for besides that they would certainly seize and carry you off by force. I know not what mischief they might do my poor men for having at first refused the entrance. She then said she would go up to the window and answer them from there. But he would not suffer her to be seen by them at all, and to keep her from insisting on it told her a great many stories of rapes and other mischiefs that had been perpetrated by Blumaker and those he kept company with. All this did not give Miss Spetsy those terrors, which, it is very plain his lordship and sister endeavored to inspire her with, yet would she say no more of appearing to the gentleman as she found he was so averse to it. At length the knocking ceased, and one of the footmen came down and said that those who had given his lordship this disturbance had withdrawn from the door, and he believed were gone quite out of the cloisters. But this intelligence did not satisfy the lord, he either was or pretended to be in fear that they were still skalking in some corner, and would run in if once they saw the door open. There was still the same difficulty as ever how Miss Spetsy should get home. That is, how she should get safely out of the house. For the rain being over the servants said they did not doubt that they should be able to procure a chair or coach. After much debating on this matter it was thus contrived. The lord had a window that looked into the yard of one of the pre-benderies. A footman was to go out of the window to the back door of that reverend divine, relate the whole story, and beg leave to go through his house. This request being granted the footman went and returned in less than half an hour with the welcome news that a chair was ready and waited on College Street. Miss Spetsy had no way of passing but by the same the footman had done which she easily did by being lifted by my lord into the window and ascending from it by the help of some steps placed on the other side by the servants of the pre-bendery. It would be superfluous to trouble the reader with any speeches made by the lord and his sister to Miss Spetsy, or the replies she made to them. I shall only say that passing through his house and the college garden at the door of which the chair attended she went into it, preceded by the lord's footman, muffled up in a cloak and without a flambeau to prevent being known in case she should be met by Blue Maker or either of his companions. And with this equipage she arrived safe at home, though not without a mind strangely perplexed at the meaning of this adventure. CHAPTER XXI Gives an explanation of the former with other particulars more agreeable to the reader in the repetition than the persons concerned with them. It was near ten o'clock when Miss Spetsy came home and Mr. Goodman, who had been very uneasy at her staying out so late, especially as she was alone, was equally rejoiced at her return, but as well as Lady Melisyn was surprised on hearing by what accident she had been detained, they knew not how to judge of it. There was no circumstance in the whole affair which could make them think. Mr. Blue Maker had any designs of the sort the Lord had suggested. Yet did Mr. Goodman think himself obliged as the young lady's guardian to go to that gentleman and have some talk with him concerning what had passed? Accordingly he went the next morning to his house, but not finding him at home left word with his servant that he desired to speak with him as soon as possible. He came not, however, the whole day, nor sent any message to excuse his not doing so. And this neglect gave Mr. Goodman and Miss Spetsy herself some room to suspect he was no less guilty than he had been represented. Since had he been perfectly innocent it seemed reasonable to them to think he would have come, even of his own accord, to have learned of Miss Spetsy the motive of her leaving him in so abrupt an odd manner. But how much they wronged him will presently appear, and they were afterwards convinced. There was an implacable animosity between the Lord and Mr. Blue Maker on account of the former's pretending a right to some lands which the other held and could not be dispossessed of by law. As his lordship knew Mr. Blue Maker was not of a disposition to bear in a front tamely. He had no other way to vent his spleen against him than by vilifying and traducing him in all companies he came into. But this he took care to do in so artful a manner as to be enabled, either to evade or render what he said impossible to be proved in case he were called to an account for it. The affair of Miss Spetsy, innocent as it was, he thought gave him an excellent opportunity of gratifying his malice. He went early the next morning to the dean, complained of an insult offered to his house by Mr. Blue Maker on the score of his sister having brought in a young lady whom that gentleman had detained in the cloisters and was going to carry off by the assistance of some friends he had with him in a hackney-coach. The dean who was also a bishop was extremely incensed, as well he might, as so glaring a profanation of that sacred place, and the moment the Lord had taken his leave sent for Mr. Blue Maker to come to him. That gentleman, immediately obeying the summons, the bishop began to reprimand him in terms which of the occasions seemed to require from a person of his function and authority. Mr. Blue Maker could not forbear interrupting him, though with the greatest respect, saying nothing could be more false and base than such an accusation, that whoever had given such an information was a villain and merited to be used as such. The prelate, seeing him in this heat, would not mention the name of his accuser but replied coolly that it was possible he might be wronged. But to convince him that he was so he must relate to him the whole truth of the story and on what grounds a conjecture so much to the disadvantage of his reputation had been formed. On which Mr. Blue Maker repeated everything that had passed and added that he was well acquainted with the family where the young lady was boarded and that he was certain she would appear in person to justify him in this point if his lordship thought it proper. But, said the bishop, I hear you affronted the lord by thundering at his door and abusing his servants. No, my lord, answered Mr. Blue Maker. The lord, though far from being my friend, will not dare to allege any such thing against me. We were indeed a little surprised to see the young lady who was with us snatched away in so odd a manner by his sister, who we easily perceived had not the least acquaintance with her. We continued walking, however, in the cloister till the man whom we had sent for a coach returned, and told us he had got one, and that it waited at the gate. We then, indeed, knocked at the lord's door, and, being answered from the windows by the servants in a very impertinent manner, I believe we might utter some words not very respectful, either of his lordship or his sister, whose behavior in this affair I am yet entirely ignorant how to account for. The bishop paused a considerable time, but on Mr. Blue Maker's repeating what he had said before, concerning bringing the lady herself to vouch the truth of what he had related to his lordship reply, that there was no occasion for troubling either her or himself any further. He believed there had been some mistake in the business, and that he should think no more of it, on which Mr. Blue Maker took his leave. Though the bishop had not mentioned the name of the lord to Mr. Blue Maker, as the person who had brought this complaint against him, yet he was very certain by all circumstances that he could be indebted to no other for such a piece of low malice, and this joined to some other provocations he had received from the ill will of that nobleman made him resolve to do himself justice. He went directly from the denary in search of the two gentlemen who had been with him in the abbey when he happened to meet Miss Betsy, and having found them both, they went to a tavern together in order to consult on what was proper to be done for the chastisement of the lord's folly and ill nature. Both of them agreed with Mr. Blue Maker that he ought to demand that satisfaction which every gentleman has a right to expect from anyone who has injured him, of what degree for ever he be, accepting those of royal blood. Each of them was so eager to be his second in this affair that they were obliged to draw lots for the determination of the choice. He who had the ill luck, as he called it, to draw the shortest cut, would needs oblige them to let him be the bearer of the challenge, that he might at least have some share in inflicting the punishment which the behaviour of that unworthy lord so justly merited. The challenge was wrote, the place appointed for meeting was the field behind Montague House, but the gentleman who carried it brought no answer back, his lordship telling him only, that he would consider on the matter, and let Mr. Blue Maker know his intentions. Mr. Blue Maker, as the principal and the other as his second, were so enraged at this that the latter resolved to go himself and force a more categorical answer. He did so, and the lord, having had time to console his brother, and as it is said some other friends, told him he accepted the challenge and would be ready with his second at the time and place appointed in it. Mr. Blue Maker did not go home that whole day, therefore he knew nothing of the message that had been left for him by Mr. Goodman till it was too late to comply with it. But this seeming remissness in him was not all the trouble the mind of that open and honest-hearted guardian of Miss Betsy. Mr. Trueworth and Mr. Staples had both been at his house the day before. The former, on hearing his mistress was abroad, left only his compliments and went away, though very much pressed to come in by Miss Flora, who, seeing him through the parlor window, ran to the door herself and entreated he would pass the evening there. Mr. Staples came the moment after and met his rival coming down the steps that led up to the door. Mr. Trueworth saluted him in passing with the usual complacence, which of the other returned in a very cool manner and knocked hastily at the door. I imagined, said he to the footman who opened it, that Miss Betsy is not at home by that gentleman's having so early taken But I would speak with Mr. Goodman, if he be at leisure. He was then showed into the back parlor, which was the room where Mr. Goodman generally received those persons who came to him upon business. On hearing who it was, then asked for him he was a little surprised, and desired he would walk upstairs but Mr. Staples, not knowing but that there might be company above, returned for answer, that he had no more than a word or two to say to him, and that must be, in private, from which the other immediately came down to him. This young lover, having by accident been informed, not only that Mr. Trueworth made his addresses to Miss Betsy, but also that it was with him she had been engaged during all that time he had been deprived of seeing her, thought it proper to talk with Mr. Goodman concerning this new obstacle to his wishes. That worthy gentleman was extremely troubled to be questioned on an affair on which he had given Miss Betsy his word not to interfere. But finding himself very much pressed by a person whose passion he had encouraged, and who was the son of one with whom he had lived in a long friendship, he frankly confessed to him that Mr. Trueworth was, indeed, recommended to Miss Betsy by her brother. Told him he was sorry the thing had happened so but had nothing further to do with it, that the young lady was at her own disposal, as to the article of marriage that he was ignorant how she would determine, and that it must be from herself alone he could learn what it was he might expect or hope. Mr. Staples received little satisfaction from what Mr. Goodman had said, but resolved to take his advice and, if possible, to bring Miss Betsy to some enclarcement of the fate he was to hope or fear. Accordingly he came the next morning to visit her, a liberty he had never taken, nor would now if he had not despaired of finding her in the afternoon. She gave herself, however, no heirs of resentment on that account, but when he began to testify his discontent concerning Mr. Trueworth, and the apprehensions he had of his having gained the preference in her heart, though the last who had solicited that happiness she replied, in the most haughty tone, that she was surprised at the freedom he took with her, that she was and ever would be mistress of her actions and sentiments, and no man had a right to prienty either, and concluded with saying that she was sorry the civilities she had treated him with should make him imagine he had a privilege of finding fault with those she showed to others. It is not to be doubted but that he made use of all the arguments in his power to convince her that a true and perfect passion was never unaccompanied with jealous fears. He acknowledged the merits of Mr. Trueworth, but added he, the more he is possessed of the more dangerous he is to my hopes. And then begged her to consider the torments he had suffered while being so long deprived of her presence, and knowing at the same time a rival was blessed with it. Miss Betsy was not at this time, in a humor either to be persuaded by the reasons or softened by the submissions of her lover, and poor Mr. Staple, after having urged all that love-wit despair and grief could dictate, was obliged to depart more dissatisfied than he came. In going out he saw Mr. Goodman in the parlor who gave him the good morning as he passed. A sad one it has been to me, answered he, with somewhat of horror in his continents, but I will not endure the rack of many such. With these words he flung out of the house in order to go about what, perhaps, the reader is not at a loss to guess that. CHAPTER XXII A DUEL BEGUN AND ANOTHER FAUT IN THE SAME MORNING ON MISS BETSY'S ACCOUNT ARE HERE RELATED WITH THE MANNER IN WHICH THE DIFFERENT ANTAGONIST BEHAVED TO EACH OTHER. Well, may the God of Love be painted blind. Those devoted to his influence are seldom capable of seeing things as they truly are. The smallest favor elates them with imaginary hopes and the least coolness sinks them into despair. Their joys, their griefs, their fears more frequently spring from ideal than effective causes. Mr. Staple judged not that Miss Betsy refused to ease his jealous apprehensions on the score of Mr. Truworth because it was her natural temper to give pain to those that loved her, but because she had really an affection for that gentleman. Looking on himself therefore as now abandoned to all hope, rage and revenge took the whole possession of his soul and chased away the softer emotions thence. Having heard Mr. Truworth say he lodged in Palmall, he went to the Cocoa Tree, and there informing himself of the particular house where his rival might be found, sat down and wrote the following billet. To Charles Truworth, Esquire. Sir, both our wishes tend to the possession of one beautiful object. Both cannot be happy in the accomplishment. It is fit there the sword should decide the difference between us and put an end to those pretensions on the one side or the other which it is not probable either of us will otherwise recede from. In confidence of your complying with this proposal, I shall attend you in the Green Park between the hours of seven and eight to-morrow morning. As the affair concerns only ourselves, I think it both needless and unjust to engage any of our friends in it, so shall come alone and expect you will do the same, sir, your humble servant, tea-stable. Mr. Truworth was at home, and on receiving this immediately and without the least hesitation, wrote and sent back by the same messenger the following answer. To tea-stable, Esquire. Sir, though I cannot but think the decision of our fate ought to be left entirely to the lady herself, to whom, whatever be the fortune of the sword, it must at last be referred. Yet, as I cannot, without being guilty of injustice to my own honor and pretensions, refuse you the satisfaction you require, shall not fail to meet you at the time and place mentioned in yours. So when I am, sir, your humble servant, see Truworth. By the style of this letter it may be easily perceived that Mr. Truworth was not very well pleased with this combat, though the greatness of his courage and spirit would not permit him to harbor the least thought of avoiding it. Yet, whatever his thoughts were on this occasion, he visited Miss Betsy the same day and discovered no part of them in his countenance, his behavior, on the contrary, was rather more sprightly than usual. He proposed to the two young ladies to go on some party of pleasure. Miss Betsy answered, with her accustomed freedom, that she should like it very well, but Miss Flora, who had been for three or four days past, very sullen and ill-humored, said one minute she would go, and the next she would not, and gave herself such odd and capricious heirs that Miss Betsy told her she believed her head was turned. To which the other replied tartly that if the distemper was catching it would be no wonder she should be infected, having it always so near her. Miss Betsy replied that she knew no greater proof of madness than to punish oneself in the hope of mortifying another. But that shall never be my case, continued she, as you will find. Then turning to Mr. Truworth, if you will accept my company without Miss Flora, said she, laughing, we will take a walk into the park. It is not to be doubted, but that the lover gladly embraced this opportunity of having his mistress to himself. Tis like Miss Betsy thoughtless cried Miss Flora, and only like herself to go abroad with a man alone. Miss Betsy, regarded not this reproach, but catching up her fan and gloves, gave Mr. Truworth her hand to lead her where she had proposed, leaving the other so full of spite that the tears gushed from her eyes. Tis likely the reader will be pretty much surprised that Miss Flora, who had always seemed more ready than even Miss Betsy herself to accept of invitations of the sort Mr. Truworth had made, should now all at once become so adverse. But his curiosity for an explanation of this matter must be for a while postponed, others, for which he may be equally impatient, requiring to be first discussed. Two duels, having been agreed upon to be fought on the same morning, the respect due to the quality of the Lord, demands we should give that wherein he was concerned the preference in the repetition. The hour appointed being arrived, the Lord and his brother came into the field. Mr. Blumaker and his friend appeared immediately after. "'You are the persons,' said the Lord, in an exulting tone who made the invitation, but we are the first at table. "'Tis not yet past the time,' replied Blumaker, looking on his watch, but the latter we come, the more eagerly we shall fall to.' In that instant all their swords were drawn, but they had scarce time to engage one thrust, before a posse of constables with their assistants armed with staves and clubs rushed in between them, beat down their weapons, and carried them all four to the house of the high bailiff of Westminster. That gentleman, by virtue of his office, made a strict examination into what had passed, and having heard what both parties had to say, fervently reprimanded the one for having given the provocation and the other for the manner in which it was resented. He told them he had a right, in order to preserve the peace of Westminster and the liberties of it, to demand that they should fund sureties for their future behavior, but in regard to the quality and character he would insist on no more than their own word and honor that the things should be mutually forgot and that nothing of the same kind which now had been happily prevented should hereafter be attempted. The Lord submitted to this injunction with a great deal of readiness, and Mr. Blumaker, feeling no other remedy, did the same after which the high bailiff obliged them to embrace, in token of the sincerity of their reconciliation. Thus ended an affair which had threatened such terrible consequences. It made, however, a very great noise, and the discourse upon it was no way to the advantage of the Lord's character, either for generosity or courage. Let us now see the sequel of the challenge sent by Mr. Staple to Mr. Trueworth. These gentlemen met almost at the same time in the place the challenger had appointed. Few words served to usher in the execution of the fatal purpose. Mr. Staple only said, Come on, sir. Love is the word and Miss Betsy thoughtless be the victor's prize. With these words he drew his sword. Mr. Trueworth also drew his, and standing on his defense, seeing the other was about to push, cried, Hold, sir! Your better fortune may triumph over my life, but never make me yield up my pretensions to the amiable lady. If I die, I die her martyr, and wish not to live, but in the hope of serving her. These words, making Mr. Staple imagine that his rival had indeed the greatest encouragement to hope everything added to the fury he was before possessed of. Die, then, her martyr, said he, and running upon him with more force than skill, received a slight wound in his own breast while aiming at the other's heart. It would be needless to mention all the particulars of this combat. I shall only say that the two great eagerness of Mr. Staple gave the other an advantage over him, which must have been fatal to him from a less generous enemy. But the temperate Mr. Trueworth seemed to take an equal care to avoid hurting his rival, as to avoid being hurt by him. Seeing, however, that he was about to make a serious push at him, he ran in between, closed with him, and Mr. Staple's foot happened to flip, he fell at full length upon the earth, his sword at the same time dropped out of his hand, which Mr. Trueworth took up. The victory is yours, cried he. Take also my life, for I disdain to keep it. No, replied Mr. Trueworth, I equally disdain to take an advantage, which mere chance has given me. Rise, sir, and let us finish the dispute between us as become men of honor. With these words he returned him his sword. I should be unworthy to be ranked among that number, said Mr. Staple, on receiving it, to employ this weapon against the breast whose generosity restored it, were anything but Miss Betsy at stake. But what is life? What is even honor without the hope of her? I therefore accept your noble offer, and death or conquest be my lot. They renewed the engagement with greater violence than before. After several passes all Mr. Trueworth's dexterity could not hinder him from receiving a wound on his left side. But he gave the other at the same time so deep a one in his right arm that it deprived him in an instant of the power of continuing the fight, on which Mr. Trueworth, dropping the point of his sword, ran to him. I am sorry, sir, said he, for the accident that has happened. I see you are much hurt. Permit me to assist you as well as I am able and attend you where proper care may be taken of you. I do not deserve this goodness, answered Mr. Staple, but it is the will of heaven that you should vanquish every way. Mr. Trueworth, then, feeling the blood run quite down upon his hand, stripped up the sleeve and bound the wound from which it issued, as tight as he could with his handkerchief, after which they went together to an eminent surgeon near Piccadilly. An examination of his wounds, neither that in his arm nor in his breast, appeared to be at all dangerous, the flesh being only pierced, and no artery or tendon touched. Mr. Trueworth seemed only assiduous in his cares for the hurts he had given his rival, without mentioning the least word of that which he had received himself, till an elderly gentleman who happened to be with the surgeon when they came in, and had all the time been perceiving some blood upon the side of his coat a little above the hip cried out, Sir, you neglect yourself, I fear you have not escaped unhurt. A trifle, said Mr. Trueworth, a mere scratch, I believe, to his time enough to think of that. Nor would he suffer the surgeon, though he bled very fast, to come near him till he had done with Mr. Staple. It was indeed but a slight wound which Mr. Trueworth had received, though happening among a knot of veins occasioned the effusion of a pretty deal of blood, for the stopping of which the surgeon applied an immediate remedy and told him that it required little fur cure besides keeping it from the air. Mr. Staple, who had been deeply affected with the concern this generous enemy had expressed for him, was equally rejoiced at hearing the wound he had given him would be attended to no bad consequences. Being that was needful being done for both, the old gentleman prevailed upon them to go with him to a tavern a few doors off, having first obtained the surgeon's leave, who told him a glass or two of wine could be of no prejudice to either. This good-natured gentleman, who was called Mr. Chatfree, used to come frequently to Mr. Goodman's house, had some knowledge of Mr. Staple, and though he was wholly unacquainted with Mr. Trueworth, so great an esteem for him from his behaviour toward the person he had fought with that he thought he could not do a more meritorious action than to reconcile to each other two-set worthy persons. What effect his endeavours, or rather their own nobleness of sentiments produced, shall presently be shown? CHAPTER XXIII Among other things necessary to be told gives an account of the success of a plot laid by Mr. Chatfree for the discovery of Miss Betsy's real sentiments. Although Mr. Goodman had as yet no intimations of the accidents of that morning, yet was he extremely uneasy. The looks, as well as words of Mr. Staple, in going out of his house the day before, were continually in his mind, and he could not forbear apprehending some fatal consequence would, one time or another, attend the levity of Miss Betsy's behaviour and conduct in regard to her admirers. He was also both surprised and vexed that Mr. Blumaker, from whom he expected an explanation of the Westminster Abbey adventure, had not come according to his request. This last motive of his disquiet was, however, soon removed. Mr. Blumaker was no less impatient to clear himself of all blame concerning the transactions of that night, had no sooner finished his affair with the Lord, and was dismissed by the High Bailiff, than he came directly to Mr. Goodman's and recited to him and all the ladies the whole of what had passed. Miss Betsy laughed prodigiously, but Mr. Goodman shook his head on hearing the particulars related by Mr. Blumaker, and, after that gentleman was gone, reproved, as he thought of his duty to do, the inconsiderateness of her conduct. He told her that, as she was alone, she ought to have left the Abbey as soon as divine service was ended, and that for a person of her sex-age and appearance, to walk in a place where there were always a great concourse of young sparks, who came for no other purpose than to make remarks upon the ladies, could not but be looked on as very odd by all who saw her. There was no rain, said he, till a long time after the service was ended, and you might then in all probability have got a chair, or if not, the walk over the park could not have been a very great fatigue. Miss Betsy blushed extremely, not through a conscious shame of imagining what she had done deserved the least rebuke, but because her spirit yet unbroken could not bear control. She replied that she meant no ill those who censured her were most in fault. That is very true, answered Mr. Goodman, but my dear child, you cannot but know it is a fault which too many in the world are guilty of. I doubt not of your innocence, but would have you consider that reputation is also of some value, that the honour of a young maid like you is a flower of so tender and delicate a nature that the least breath of scandal withers and destroys it. In fine that it is not enough to be good without behaving in such a manner as to make others acknowledge us to be so. Miss Betsy had too much understanding not to be sensible what her guardian said on this occasion was perfectly just, and also that he had a right to offer his advice, whenever her conduct rendered it necessary, but could not help being vexed that anything she did should be liable to censure, as she thought it merited none. She made no further reply, however, to what Mr. Goodman said, though he continued his remonstrances, and probably would have gone on much longer if not interrupted by the coming in of Mr. Chatfree. This gentleman, having parted from the two wounded rivals, came directly to Mr. Goodman's in order to see how Miss Betsy would receive the intelligence he had to bring her. After paying his compliments to Mr. Goodman and the other ladies, he came toward Miss Betsy, and looking on her with a more than ordinary earnestness in his countenance. Ah, madam, said he, I shall never hereafter see you without remembering what Callie says of a lady whom might, I suppose, be like you. So fatal, and with all so fair, were told destroying angels are. Though Miss Betsy was not at that time in a humour to have any great relish for Railry, yet she could not for bear replying to what this old gentleman said in the manner in which she imagined he spoke. You are at least past the age of being destroyed by any weapons I carry about me, cried she, but pray. What meaning have you in this terrible simile? My meaning is as terrible as the simile, answered he. And though I believe you to be very much the favourite of heaven, I know not how you will atone for the mischief you have been on the occasion of this morning. But it may be, continued he, that you think at nothing that those murdering eyes of yours have set to gentlemen of fighting. Miss Betsy, supposing no other than that he had heard of the quarrel between Mr. Blumaker and the Lord, replied merrily, Pray, accuse my eyes of no such thing. They are very innocent, I assure you. Yes, cried Mr. Goodman and Lady Melison at the same time, we can clear Miss Betsy of this accusation. What, rejoin' Mr. Chatfree hastily, was not Mr. Staple and Mr. Trueworth rivals for her love? Mr. Staple and Mr. Trueworth, said Miss Betsy, in a good deal of consternation, pray, what of them? Oh, the most inveterate dual, answered he. They fought above half an hour, and poor Mr. Staple is dead of his wounds. Dead, cried Miss Betsy with a great scream. Lady Melison and Miss Flora seemed very much alarmed, but Mr. Goodman was ready to sink from his chair, till Mr. Chatfree, unseen by Miss Betsy, winked upon him, in token that he was not in earnest in what he said. The distraction in which this young lady now appeared. The concern she expressed for Mr. Staple, and her indignation against Mr. Trueworth, would have made anyone think the former had much the preference in her esteem. Miss Staple, Mr. Chatfree, after having listened to her exclamations on the score, cried out in a sudden, Ah, madam, what a mistake has the confusion I was involved in made me guilty of. Alas, I have deceived you, though without designing to do so. Mr. Staple lives, it is Mr. Trueworth who has fallen a sacrifice to his unsuccessful passion for you. Trueworth dead, cried Miss Betsy, oh, God! And does his murderer live to triumph in the fall of the best most accomplished man on earth? Oh, may all the miseries that heaven and earth can inflict light on him! Is he not secured, Mr. Chatfree, will he not be hanged? Mr. Chatfree could hold his countenance no longer, but bursting into a violent fit of laughter. Ah, Miss Betsy, Miss Betsy, said he, I have caught you. Mr. Trueworth, I find then, is the happy man. What do you mean, Mr. Chatfree, cried Miss Betsy, very much amazed? I beg your pardon, answered he, for the fright I have put you in, but be comforted, for Mr. Trueworth is not dead, I assure you, and I doubt not, lives as much your slave as ever. I do not care what he is if he is not dead, said Miss Betsy, but pray for what end did you invent this fine story? Name, Madam, resumed he. It is not altogether my own inventing, neither, for Mr. Trueworth and Mr. Staple have had a duel this morning, and both of them are wounded. Though not so dangerously as I pretended, merely to try by the concern you would express, which of them you were most inclined to favour. And I have done it, I faith, Mr. Trueworth is the man. Lady Mellison, who had not spoke, during all this conversation, now cried out, I, Mr. Chatfree, we shall soon have a wedding, I believe. Believe, Madam, said he, why your ladyship may swear it. For my part, I will not give above a fortnight for the conclusion, and I will venture too with a fair bride, joy on the occasion, for he is a fine gentleman, a very fine gentleman indeed, and I think she could not have made a better choice. With these words he wiped his mouth and advanced to Miss Betsy in order to salute her, but pushing him scornfully back. None of your flights good, Mr. Chatfree," said she, if I thought you were an earnest, I would never see the face of Mr. Trueworth more. This did not hinder the pleasant old gentleman from continuing his railroad. He plainly told Miss Betsy that she was in love, and that he saw the marks of it upon her, and that it was in vain for her to deny it. Mrs. Mellison laughed very heartily to see the fret Miss Betsy was in at hearing Mr. Chatfree talk in this manner. But Miss Flora, to whom one would imagine this scene would have been diverting enough, never opened her lips to utter one syllable, but made such grimaces as had they been taken notice of, would have shown how little she was pleased with it. Mr. Goodman had been so much struck with the first account given by Mr. Chatfree that he was not to be roused by anything that gentleman said afterwards. He reflected that though the consequences of the recounter between the two rivals had been less fatal than he had been made to imagine, yet it might have happened, and indeed been naturally expected. He could not forbear therefore interrupting his friend's mirth by remonstrating to Miss Betsy in the most serious terms the great error she was guilty of in encouraging a plurality of lovers at the same time. He told her that gentlemen of Mr. Trueworth's and Mr. Staples' character and fortune ought not to be trifled with. Suppose, said he, that one or both of them had indeed been killed. How could you have answered to yourself or to the world having been the sad occasion? Lord, sir, replied Miss Betsy, walking up and down the room in a good deal of agitation, what would you have me do? I do not want the men to love me, and if they will play the fool and fight and kill one another, it is none of my fault. In fine between Mr. Chatfree's rail-ree and Mr. Goodman's admonitions, this poor young lady was teased beyond all patience, and finding it impossible to put a stop to either she flew out of the room ready to cry with vexation. She was no sooner gone than Mr. Goodman took Mr. Chatfree into his closet, and having learned from him all the particulars of the late duel, and consulted with him what was proper to be done to prevent any further mischief of the like sort, they went together to Mr. Staples' lodging, in order to use their utmost endeavors to prevail on that gentleman to desist the prosecution of his addresses to Miss Betsy. End of the first volume. End of Chapter 23, Reading by Joyce Martin. End of the History of Miss Betsy Thoughtless, Volume 1 by Eliza Haywood.