lost her for a few minutes: but he soon saw her come out
of a linen-drapery shop, attended with a servant-maid, having, as it
proved, got that maid-servant to go with her to the house she is now at.*

* See Letter XXI. of this volume.

'The fellow, after waiting about an hour, and not seeing her come out,
returned, concluding that she had taken lodgings there.'

And here, supposing my narrative of the dramatic kind, ends Act the
first. And now begins

ACT II
SCENE.--Hampstead Heath continued.
ENTER MY RASCAL.

Will. having got at all these particulars, by exchanging others as
frankly against them, with which I had formerly prepared him both
verbally and in writing.--I found the people already of my party, and
full of good wishes for my success, repeating to me all they told him.

But he had first acquainted me with the accounts he had given them of his
lady and me. It is necessary that I give thee the particulars of his
tale, and I have a little time upon my hands: for the maid of the house,
who had been out of an errand, tells us, that she saw Mrs. Moore, [with
whom must be my first business,] go into the house of a young gentleman,
within a few doors of her, who has a maiden sister, Miss Rawlins by name,
so notified for prudence, that none of her acquaintance undertake any
thing of consequence without consulting her.

Meanwhile my honest coachman is walking about Miss Rawlin's door, in
order to bring me notice of Mrs. Moore's return to her own house. I hope
her gossip's-tale will be as soon told as mine--which take as follows:--

Will. told them, before I came, 'That his lady was but lately married to
one of the finest gentlemen in the world. But that he, being very gay
and lively, she was mortal jealous of him; and, in a fit of that sort,
had eloped from him. For although she loved him dearly, and he doated
upon her, (as well he might, since, as they had seen, she was the finest
creature that ever the sun shone upon,) yet she was apt to be very wilful
and sullen, if he might take liberty to say so--but truth was truth;--and
if she could not have her own way in every thing, would be for leaving
him. That she had three or four times played his master such tricks; but
with all the virtue and innocence in the world; running away to an
intimate friend of her's, who, though a young lady of honour, was but too
indulgent to her in this only failing; for which reason his master has
brought her to London l