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Richardson, Samuel, 1689-1761

"Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded"


This, said my master, is Friday night; and suppose, my girl, it be next
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday morning?--Say, my Pamela.
Will you, sir, said I, excuse me till to-morrow for an answer? I will,
said he; and touched the bell, and called for Mrs. Jewkes. Where, said
he, does Mr. Andrews lie tonight? You'll take care of him. He's a very
good man; and will bring a blessing upon every house he sets his foot in.
My dear father wept for joy; and I could not refrain keeping him company.
And my master, saluting me, bid us good night, and retired. And I waited
upon my dear father, and was so full of prattle, of my master's goodness,
and my future prospects, that I believed afterwards I was turned all into
tongue: but he indulged me, and was transported with joy; and went to
bed, and dreamed of nothing but Jacob's ladder, and angels ascending and
descending, to bless him and his daughter.

Saturday.
I arose early in the morning; but found my father was up before me, and
was gone to walk in the garden. I went to him: and with what delight,
with what thankfulness, did we go over every scene of it, that had before
been so dreadful to me! The fish-pond, the back-door, and every place.
O what reason had we for thankfulness and gratitude!
About seven o'clock my good master joined us, in his morning gown and
slippers; and looking a little heavy, I said, Sir, I fear you had not
good rest last night.


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