s _Miltoned_ me ever since I sett Foot
in his House), he sayed he would not interrupt our Studdies, though he
should be within Call, and soe left us. I had not felt soe happy since
_Father's_ Birthday; and, though _Rose_ kept me close to my Book for
two Hours, I found her a far less irksome Tutor than deare _Robin_.
Then she went away, singing, to make _Roger's_ favourite Dish, and
afterwards we took a brisk Walke, and came Home hungrie enoughe to
Dinner.

There is a daily Beauty in _Rose's_ Life, that I not onlie admire, but
am readie to envy. Oh! if _Milton_ lived but in the poorest House in
the Countrie, methinks I coulde be very happy with him.

_Bedtime_.

Chancing to make the above Remark to _Rose_, she cried, "And why not be
happy with him in _Aldersgate Street_?" I briefly replied that he must
get the House first, before it were possible to tell whether I coulde
be happy there or not. _Rose_ started, and exclaimed, "Why, where do
you suppose him to be now?" "Where but at the Taylor's in _Bride's
Churchyard_?" I replied. She claspt her Hands with a Look I shall
never forget, and exclaimed in a Sort of vehement Passion, "Oh,
_Cousin, Cousin_, how you throw your own Happinesse away! How awfulle
a Pause must have taken place in your Intercourse with the Man whom you
promised to abide by till Death, since you know not that he has long
since taken Possession of his new Home; that he strove to have it ready
for you at _Michaelmasse_!"

Doubtlesse I lookt noe less surprised than I felt;--a suddain Prick at
the Heart prevented Speech; but it shot acrosse my Heart that I had
made out the Words "_Aldersgate_" and "new Home," in the Fragments of
the Letter my Father had torn. _Rose_, misjudging my Silence, burst
forth anew with, "Oh, _Cousin_! _Cousin_! coulde anie Home, however
dull and noisesome, drive me from _Roger Agnew_? Onlie think of what
you are doing,--of what you are leaving undone!--of what you are
preparing against yourself! To put the Wickednesse of a selfish Course
out of the Account, onlie think of its Mellancholie, its
Miserie,--destitute of alle the sweet, bright, fresh Well-springs of
Happinesse;--unblest by _God_!"

Here _Rose_ wept passionatelie, and claspt her Arms about me; but, when
I began to speak, and to tell her of much that had made me miserable,
she hearkened in motionlesse Silence, till I told her that _Father_ had
torn the Letter and beaten the Messenger. Then she cried,