Ay, said he, I suppose so; for you are a great
plotter: but I have not read them yet.
Then, sir, said I, very gravely, it will be truly honourable in you not
to read them; but to give them to me again. To whom, says he, are they
written?--To my father, sir; but I suppose you see to whom.--Indeed,
returned he, I have not read three lines yet. Then, pray, sir, don't
read them; but give them to me again. That I will not, said he, till I
have read them. Sir, said I, you served me not well in the letters I
used to write formerly: I think it was not worthy your character to
contrive to get them in your hands, by that false John Arnold! for should
such a gentleman as you mind what your poor servant writes?--Yes, said
he, by all means, mind what such a servant as my Pamela writes.
Your Pamela! thought I. Then the sham marriage came into my head; and
indeed it has not been out of it, since the gipsy affair.--But, said he,
have you any thing in these papers you would not have me see? To be
sure, sir, said I, there is; for what one writes to one's father and
mother, is not for every body to see. Nor, said he, am I every body.
Those letters, added he, that I did see by John's means, were not to your
disadvantage, I'll assure you; for they gave me a very high opinion of
your wit and innocence: And if I had not loved you, do you think I would
have troubled myself about your letters?
Alas! sir, said I, great pride to me that! For they gave you such an
opinion of my innocence, that you was resolved to ruin me.
Pages:
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376