any body so gentle, so meek, so low voiced, as the odious
woman; drawling out, in a puling accent, all the obliging things she
could say: awed, I then thought, by the conscious dignity of a woman of
quality; glittering with jewels.

The called-for tea was ready presently.

There was no Mr. Belton, I believe: for the wretch went not to any body,
unless it were while we were parlying in the coach. No such person
however, appeared at the tea-table.

I was made to drink two dishes, with milk, complaisantly urged by the
pretended ladies helping me each to one. I was stupid to their hands;
and, when I took the tea, almost choked with vapours; and could hardly
swallow.

I thought, transiently thought, that the tea, the last dish particularly,
had an odd taste. They, on my palating it, observed, that the milk was
London-milk; far short in goodness of what they were accustomed to from
their own dairies.

I have no doubt that my two dishes, and perhaps my hartshorn, were
prepared for me; in which case it was more proper for their purpose, that
they should help me, than that I should help myself. Ill before, I found
myself still more and more disordered in my head; a heavy torpid pain
increasing fast upon me. But I imputed it to my terror.

Nevertheless, at the pretended Lady's motion, I went up stairs, attended
by Dorcas; who affected to weep for joy, that she once more saw my
blessed face; that was the vile creature's word: and immediately I set
about taking out some of my clothes, ordering what should be put up, and
what sent after me.

While I was thus employed, up came the pretended Lady Betty, in a
hurrying way----My dear, you won't be long before you are ready. My
nephew is very busy in writing answers to his letters: so, I'll just whip
away, and change my dress, and call upon you in an instant.

O Madam!--I am ready! I am now ready!--You must not leave me here. And
down I sunk, affrighted, into a chair.

This instant, this instant, I will return--before you can be ready--
before you can have packed up your things--we would not be late--the
robbers we have heard of may be out--don't let us be late.

And away she hurried before I could say another word. Her pretended
niece went with her, without taking notice to me of her going.

I had no suspicion yet that these women were not indeed the ladies
they personated; and I blamed myself for my weak fears.--It cannot be,
thought I, that such ladies will abet