Pamela or Virtue Rewarded
I broke off abruptly my last letter; for I feared he was coming; and so it happened. I
put the letter in my bosom, and took up my work, which lay by me; but I had so little
of the artful, as he called it, that I looked as confused as if I had been doing some
Sit still, Pamela, said he, mind your work, for all me.--You don't tell me I am welcome
home, after my journey to Lincolnshire. It would be hard, sir, said I, if you was not
always welcome to your honour's own house.
I would have gone; but he said, Don't run away, I tell you. I have a word or two to
say to you. Good sirs, how my heart went pit-a-pat! When I was a little kind to you,
said he, in the summer-house, and you carried yourself so foolishly upon it, as if I
had intended to do you great harm, did I not tell you you should take no notice of
what passed to any creature? and yet you have made a common talk of the matter,
not considering either my reputation, or your own.--I made a common talk of it, sir!
said I: I have nobody to talk to, hardly.
He interrupted me, and said, Hardly! you little equivocator! what do you mean by
hardly? Let me ask you, have not you told Mrs. Jervis for one? Pray your honour,
said I, all in agitation, let me go down; for it is not for me to hold an argument with
your honour. Equivocator, again! said he, and took my hand, what do you talk of an
argument? Is it holding an argument with me to answer a plain question? Answer me
what I asked. O, good sir, said I, let me beg you will not urge me farther, for fear I
forget myself again, and be saucy.
Answer me then, I bid you, says he, Have you not told Mrs. Jervis? It will be saucy in
you if you don't answer me directly to what I ask. Sir, said I, and fain would have