thou'lt make a good figure in
his place.--I wish, said I, a little vexed at his jeer, your honour's
conscience would be your preacher, and then you would need no other
chaplain. Well, well, Pamela, said he, no more of this unfashionable
jargon. I did not send for you so much for your opinion of my new suit,
as to tell you, you are welcome to stay, since Mrs. Jervis desires it,
till she goes. I welcome! said I; I am sure I shall rejoice when I am
out of the house!

Well, said he, you are an ungrateful baggage; but I am thinking it would
be pity, with these fair soft hands, and that lovely skin, (as he called
it, and took hold of my hand,) that you should return again to hard
work, as you must if you go to your father's; and so I would advise her
to take a house in London, and let lodgings to us members of parliament,
when we come to town; and such a pretty daughter as you may pass for,
will always fill her house, and she'll get a great deal of money.

I was sadly vexed at this barbarous joke; but being ready to cry before,
the tears gushed out, and (endeavouring to get my hand from him, but in
vain) I said, I can expect no better: Your behaviour, sir, to me, has
been just of a piece with these words: Nay, I will say it, though you
were to be ever so angry.--I angry, Pamela? No, no, said he, I have
overcome all that; and as you are to go away, I look upon you now as
Mrs. Jervis's guest while you both stay, and not as my servant; and so
you may say what you will. But I'll tell you, Pamela, why you need not
take this matter in such high disdain!--You have a very pretty romantic
turn for virtue, and all that.--And I don't suppose but you'll hold
it still: and nobody will be able to prevail upon you. But, my child,
(sneeringly he spoke it,) do but consider what a fine opportunity you
will then have for a tale every day to good mother Jervis, and what
subjects for letter-writing to your father and mother, and what pretty
preachments you may hold forth to the young gentlemen. Ad's my heart! I
think it would be the best thing you and she could do.

You do well, sir, said I, to even your wit to such a poor maiden as me:
but, permit me to say, that if you was not rich and great, and I poor
and little, you would not insult me thus.--Let me ask you, sir, if you
think this becomes your fine clothes, and a master's station: Why so
serious, my pretty Pamela? said he: Why so grave? And would kiss me; but
my heart was full, and I said,