happy as a princess. I am quite as rich
as I wish to be: and once more, my dear third bundle, I will hug thee to
my bosom. And I beg you'll say nothing of all this till I am gone, that
my master mayn't be so angry, but that I may go in peace; for my heart,
without other matters, will be ready to break to part with you all.

Now, Mrs. Jervis, said I, as to one matter more: and that is my master's
last usage of me, before Mr. Longman.--Said she, Pr'ythee, dear Pamela,
step to my chamber, and fetch me a paper I left on my table. I have
something to shew you in it. I will, said I, and stepped down; but that
was only a fetch, to take the orders of my master, I found. It seems he
said, he thought two or three times to have burst out upon me; but he
could not stand it, and wished I might not know he was there. But I
tripped up again so nimbly, (for there was no paper,) that I just saw
his back, as if coming out of that green-room, and going into the next
to it, the first door that was open--I whipped in, and shut the door,
and bolted it. O Mrs. Jervis! said I, what have you done by me?--I see
I can't confide in any body. I am beset on all hands. Wretched, wretched
Pamela, where shalt thou expect a friend, if Mrs. Jervis joins to betray
thee thus? She made so many protestations, (telling me all, and that
he owned I had made him wipe his eyes two or three times, and said she
hoped it would have a good effect, and remembered me, that I had said
nothing but what would rather move compassion than resentment,) that
I forgave her. But O! that I was safe from this house! for never
poor creature sure was so flustered as I have been so many months
together;--I am called down from this most tedious scribble. I wonder
what will next befall Your dutiful DAUGHTER.

Mrs. Jervis says, she is sure I shall have the chariot to carry me home
to you. Though this will look too great for me, yet it will shew as if
I was not turned away quite in disgrace. The travelling chariot is come
from Lincolnshire, and I fancy I shall go in that; for the other is
quite grand.

LETTER XXX

MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER,

I write again, though, may be, I shall bring it to you in my pocket: for
I shall have no writing, nor writing-time, I hope, when I come to you.
This is Wednesday morning, and I shall, I hope, set out to you to-morrow
morning; but I have had more trials and more vexations; but of another
complexion too a little, though all from the same