now. Continue Esquire.
It is a respectable addition, although every sorry fellow assumes it,
almost to the banishment of the usual traveling one of Captain. 'To be
left till called for, at the post-house at Hertford.'

Upon naming thee, she asked thy character. I gave thee a better than
thou deservest, in order to do credit to myself. Yet I told her, that
thou wert an awkward fellow; and this to do credit to thee, that she may
not, if ever she be to see thee, expect a cleverer man than she'll find.
Yet thy apparent awkwardness befriends thee not a little: for wert thou
a sightly mortal, people would discover nothing extraordinary in
thee, when they conversed with thee: whereas, seeing a bear, they are
surprised to find in thee any thing that is like a man. Felicitate
thyself then upon thy defects; which are evidently thy principal
perfections; and which occasion thee a distinction which otherwise thou
wouldst never have.

The lodgings we are in at present are not convenient. I was so delicate
as to find fault with them, as communicating with each other, because
I knew she would; and told her, that were I sure she was safe from
pursuit, I would leave her in them, (since such was her earnest desire
and expectation,) and go to London.

She must be an infidel against all reason and appearances, if I do not
banish even the shadow of mistrust from her heart.

Here are two young likely girls, daughters of the widow Sorlings; that's
the name of our landlady.

I have only, at present, admired them in their dairy-works. How greedily
do the sex swallow praise!--Did I not once, in the streets of London,
see a well-dressed, handsome girl laugh, bridle, and visibly enjoy the
praises of a sooty dog, a chimney-sweeper; who, with his empty sack
across his shoulder, after giving her the way, stopt, and held up his
brush and shovel in admiration of her?--Egad, girl, thought I, I
despise thee as Lovelace: but were I the chimney-sweeper, and could only
contrive to get into thy presence, my life to thy virtue, I would have
thee.

So pleased was I with the young Sorlings, for the elegance of her works,
that I kissed her, and she made me a courtesy for my condescension; and
blushed, and seemed sensible all over: encouraging, yet innocently, she
adjusted her handkerchief, and looked towards the door, as much as to
say, she would not tell, were I to kiss her again.

Her eldest sister popt upon her. The conscious girl blushed again, and