nd; and this house her terror: for I saw plainly that she
now believed that Lady Betty and Miss Montague were both impostors.

But her mistrust is a little of the latest to do her service!

And, O Jack, the rage of love, the rage of revenge is upon me! by turns
they tear me! The progress already made--the women's instigations--the
power I shall have to try her to the utmost, and still to marry her, if
she be not to be brought to cohabitation--let me perish, Belford, if she
escape me now!

***

Will. is not yet come back. Near eleven.

***

Will. is this moment returned. No coach to be got, either for love or
money.

Once more she urges--to Mrs. Leeson's, let me go, Lovelace! Good
Lovelace, let me go to Mrs. Leeson's? What is Miss Montague's illness
to my terror?---For the Almighty's sake, Mr. Lovelace!--her hands
clasped.

O my angel! What a wildness is this! Do you know, do you see, my
dearest life, what appearances your causeless apprehensions have given
you?--Do you know it is past eleven o'clock?

Twelve, one, two, three, four--any hour, I care not--If you mean me
honourably, let me go out of this hated house!

Thou'lt observe, Belford, that though this was written afterwards, yet,
(as in other places,) I write it as it was spoken and happened, as if I
had retired to put down every sentence spoken. I know thou likest this
lively present-tense manner, as it is one of my peculiars.

Just as she had repeated the last words, If you mean me honourably, let
me go out of this hated house, in came Mrs. Sinclair, in a great ferment
--And what, pray, Madam, has this house done to you? Mr. Lovelace, you
have known me some time; and, if I have not the niceness of this lady, I
hope I do not deserve to be treated thus!

She set her huge arms akimbo: Hoh! Madam, let me tell you that I am
amazed at your freedoms with my character! And, Mr. Lovelace, [holding
up, and violently shaking her head,] if you are a gentleman, and a man of
honour----

Having never before seen any thing but obsequiousness in this woman,
little as she liked her, she was frighted at her masculine air, and
fierce look--God help me! cried she--what will become of me now! Then,
turning her head hither and thither, in a wild kind of amaze. Whom have
I for a protector! What will become of me now!

I will be your protector, my dearest love!--But indeed you are
uncharitably severe upon poor Mrs. Sinclair! Indeed you are!--She