ortioned regard to
your maid too, for her affection to you."

Amy made him a curtsey, and the poor girl looked so confounded with joy
that she could not speak, but her colour came and went, and every now
and then she blushed as red as scarlet, and the next minute looked as
pale as death. Well, having said this, he sat down, made me sit down,
and then drank to me, and made me drink two glasses of wine together;
"For," says he, "you have need of it;" and so indeed I had. When he had
done so, "Come, Amy," says he, "with your mistress's leave, you shall
have a glass too." So he made her drink two glasses also; and then
rising up, "And now, Amy," says he, "go and get dinner; and you, madam,"
says he to me, "go up and dress you, and come down and smile and be
merry;" adding, "I'll make you easy if I can;" and in the meantime, he
said, he would walk in the garden.

When he was gone, Amy changed her countenance indeed, and looked as
merry as ever she did in her life. "Dear madam," says she, "what does
this gentleman mean?" "Nay, Amy," said I, "he means to do us good, you
see, don't he? I know no other meaning he can have, for he can get
nothing by me." "I warrant you, madam," says she, "he'll ask you a
favour by-and-by." "No, no, you are mistaken, Amy, I dare say," said I;
"you have heard what he said, didn't you?" "Ay," says Amy, "it's no
matter for that, you shall see what he will do after dinner." "Well,
well, Amy," says I, "you have hard thoughts of him. I cannot be of your
opinion: I don't see anything in him yet that looks like it." "As to
that, madam," says Amy, "I don't see anything of it yet neither; but
what should move a gentleman to take pity of us as he does?" "Nay," says
I, "that's a hard thing too, that we should judge a man to be wicked
because he's charitable, and vicious because he's kind." "Oh, madam,"
says Amy, "there's abundance of charity begins in that vice; and he is
not so unacquainted with things as not to know that poverty is the
strongest incentive--a temptation against which no virtue is powerful
enough to stand out. He knows your condition as well as you do." "Well,
and what then?" "Why, then, he knows too that you are young and
handsome, and he has the surest bait in the world to take you with."

"Well, Amy," said I, "but he may find himself mistaken too in such a
thing as that." "Why, madam," says Amy, "I hope you won't deny him if he
should offer it."

"What d'ye mean by that, hussy?" said I