CHAPTER I

Gives the reader room to guess at what is to ensue, though ten to one but he finds himself deceived

It was always my opinion, that fewer women were undone by love than vanity; and that those mistakes the sex are sometimes guilty of, proceed, for the most part, rather from inadvertency, than a vicious inclination. The ladies, however, I am sorry to observe, are apt to make too little allowances to each other on this score, and seem better pleased with an occasion to condemn than to excuse; and it is not above one, in a greater number than I will presume to mention, who, while she passes the severest censure on the conduct of her friend, will be at the trouble of taking a retrospect on her own. There are some who behold, with indignation and contempt, those errors in others, which, unhappily, they are every day falling into themselves; and as the want of due consideration occasions the guilt, so the want of due consideration also occasions the scandal: and there would be much less room either for the one or the other, were some part of that time which is wasted at the toilette, in consulting what dress is most becoming to the face, employed

in examining the heart, and what actions are most becoming of the character.

Betsy Thoughtless was the only daughter of a gentleman of good family and fortune in L——e, where he constantly resided, scarce ever going to London, and contented himself with such diversions as the country afforded. On the death of his wife, he sent his little favourite, then about ten years old, to a boarding-school, the governess of which had the reputation of a woman of great good sense, fine breeding, and every way qualified for the well-forming of the minds [Pg 4] of those young persons who were entrusted to her care.

The old gentleman was so well pleased with having placed his daughter where she was so likely to improve in all the accomplishments befitting her sex, that he never suffered her to come home, even at breaking-up times, when most of the other young ladies did so: but as the school was not above seven or eight miles from his seat, he seldom failed calling to see her once or twice a week.

Miss Betsy, who had a great deal of good-nature, and somewhat extremely engaging in her manner of behaviour, soon gained the affection not only of the governess, but of all the young ladies; but as girls, as well as women, have their favourites, to whom they may communicate their little secrets, there was one who above all the others was distinguished by her. Miss Forward, for so she was called, was also very fond of Miss Betsy. This intimacy beginning but in trivial things, and such as suited their age, continued as they advanced nearer to maturity. Miss Forward, however, had two years the advantage of her friend, yet did not disdain to make her the confidante of a kind of amorous intrigue she had entered into with a young lad, called Master Sparkish, the son of a neighbouring gentleman: he had fallen in love with her at church, and had taken all opportunities to convince her of his passion; she, proud of being looked upon as a woman, encouraged it. Frequent letters passed between them, for she never failed to answer those she received from

him, both which were shewn to Miss Betsy; and this gave her an early light into the art and mystery of courtship, and consequently a relish for admiration. The young lover calling his mistress angel and goddess, made her long to be in her teens, that she might have the same things said to her.

This correspondence being by some accident discovered, the governess found it behoved her to keep a strict eye upon Miss Forward: all the servants were examined concerning the conveying any letters, either to or from her: but none of them knew any thing of the matter; it was a secret to all but Miss Betsy, who kept it inviolably. It is fit, however, the reader should not remain in ignorance.

Master Sparkish had read the story of Pyramus and Thisbe; he told his mistress of it, and in imitation of those lovers of antiquity, stuck his letters into a little crevice he found in the garden-wall, whence she pulled them out every day, and returned her answers by the same friendly breach, which he very gallantly told her in one of [Pg 5] his epistles, had been made by the God of Love himself, in order to favour his suit: so that all the governess's circumspection could not hinder this amour from going on without interruption; and could they have contented themselves with barely writing to each other, they might probably have done so till they both had been weary: but though I will not pretend to say that either of them had any thing in their inclinations that was not perfectly consistent with innocence, yet it is certain they both languished for a nearer conversation, which the fertile brain of Miss Forward at last brought about.

She pretended, one Sunday in the afternoon, to have so violent a pain in her head, that she could not go to church; Miss Betsy begged leave to stay and keep her company, and told the governess she would read a sermon or some other good book to her: the good old gentlewoman, little suspecting the plot concerted between them, readily consented.

Nobody being left in the house but themselves, and one maid-servant, young Sparkish, who had previous notice at what hour to come, was let in at the garden-door, the key being always in it. Miss Betsy left the lovers in an arbour, and went into the kitchen, telling the maid she had read Miss Forward to sleep, and hoped she would be better when she waked. She amused the wench with one little chat or other, till she thought divine service was near over, then returned into the garden to give her friends warning it was time to separate.

They had after this many private interviews, through the contrivance and assistance of Miss Betsy; who, quite charmed with being made the confidante of a person older than herself, set all her wits to work to render herself worthy of the trust reposed in her. Sometimes she made pretences of going to the milliner, the mantua-maker, or to buy something in town, and begged leave that Miss Forward should accompany her; saying, she wanted her choice in what she was to purchase. Sparkish was always made acquainted when they were to go out, and never failed to give them a meeting.

Miss Forward had a great deal of the coquette in her nature; she knew how to play at fast-and-loose with her lover; and, young as she was, took a pride in mingling pain with the pleasure she bestowed. Miss Betsy was a witness of all the airs the other gave herself on this occasion, and the artifices she made use of, in order to secure the continuance of his addresses: so that, thus early initiated into the mystery of courtship, it is not to be wondered at, that when she came to the practice, she was so little at a loss.

[Pg 6]

This intercourse, however, lasted but a small time; their meetings were too frequent, and too little circumspection used in them not to be liable to discovery. The governess was informed that, in spite of all her care, the young folks had been too cunning for her: on which she went to the father of Sparkish, acquainted him with what she knew of the affair, and intreated he would lay his commands on his son to refrain all conversation with any of the ladies under her tuition. The old gentleman flew into a violent passion on hearing his son had already begun to think of love; he called for him, and after having rated his youthful folly in the severest manner, charged him to relate the whole truth of what had passed between him and the young lady mentioned by the governess. The poor lad was terrified beyond measure at his father's anger, and confessed every particular of his meetings with Miss Forward and her companion; and thus Miss Betsy's share of the contrivance was brought to light, and drew on her a reprimand equally severe with that Miss Forward had received.

The careful governess would not entirely depend on the assurance the father of Sparkish had given her, and resolved to trust neither of the ladies out of her sight, while that young gentleman remained so near them, which she knew would be but a short time, he having finished his school-learning, and was soon to go to the university. To prevent also any future strategems being laid between Miss Betsy and Miss Forward, she took care to keep them from ever being alone together, which was a very great mortification to them: but a sudden turn soon after happened in the affairs of Miss Betsy, which put all I have been relating entirely out of her head.

[Pg 7]

CHAPTER II

Shews Miss Betsy in a new scene of life, and the frequent opportunities she had of putting in practice those lessons she was beginning to receive from her young instructress at the boarding-school

Though it is certainly necessary to inculcate into young girls all imaginable precaution in regard to their behaviour towards those of another sex, yet I know not if it is not an error to dwell too much upon that topick. Miss Betsy might, possibly, have sooner forgot the little artifices she had seen practised by Miss Forward, if her governess, by too strenuously endeavouring to convince her how unbecoming they were, had not reminded her of them: besides, the good old gentlewoman was far stricken in years; time had set his iron fingers on her cheeks, had left his cruel marks on every feature of her face, and she had little remains of having ever been capable of exciting those inclinations she so much condemned; so that what she said seemed to Miss Betsy as spoke out of envy, or to shew her authority, rather than the real dictates of truth.

I have often remarked, that reproofs from the old and ugly have much less efficacy than when given by persons less advanced in years, and who may be supposed not altogether past sensibility themselves of the gaieties they advise others to avoid.

Though all the old gentlewoman said, could not persuade Miss Betsy there was any harm in Miss Forward's behaviour towards young Sparkish, yet she had the complaisance to listen to her with all the attention the other could expect or desire from her.

She was, indeed, as yet too young to consider of the justice of the other's reasoning; and her future conduct shewed, also, she was not of a humour to give herself much pains in examining, or weighing in [Pg 8] the balance of judgment, the merit of the arguments she heard urged, whether for or against any point whatsoever. She had a great deal of wit, but was too volative for reflection; and as a ship without sufficient ballast is tossed about at the pleasure of every wind that blows, so was she hurried through the ocean of life, just as each predominant passion directed.

But I will not anticipate that gratification which ought to be the reward of a long curiosity. The reader, if he has patience to go through the following pages, will see into the secret springs which set this fair machine in motion, and produced many actions which were ascribed, by the ill-judging and malicious world, to causes very different from the real ones.

All this, I say, will be revealed in time; but it would be as absurd in a writer to rush all at once into the catastrophe of the adventures he would relate, as it would be impracticable in a traveller to reach the end of a long journey, without sometimes stopping at the inns in his way to it. To proceed, therefore, gradually with my history.

The father of Miss Betsy was a very worthy, honest, and good-natured man, but somewhat too indolent; and, by depending too much on the fidelity of those he entrusted with the management of his affairs, had been for several years involved in a law-suit; and, to his misfortune, the aversion he had to business rendered him also incapable of extricating himself from it; and the decision was spun out to a much greater length than it need to have been, could he have been prevailed upon to have attended in person the several courts of justice the cause had been carried through by his more industrious adversary. The exorbitant bills, however, which his lawyers were continually drawing upon him, joining with the pressing remonstrances of his friends, at last rouzed him from that inactivity of mind which had already cost him so dear, and determined him not only to take a journey to London, but likewise not to return home, till he had seen a final end put to this perplexing affair.

Before his departure, he went to the boarding-school, to take his leave of his beloved Betsy, and renew the charge he had frequently given the governess concerning her education; adding, in a mournful accent, that it would be a long time before he saw her again.

These words, as it proved, had somewhat of prophetick in them. On his arrival in London, he found his cause in so perplexed and entangled a situation, as gave him little hopes of ever bringing it to a favourable issue. The vexation and fatigue he underwent on this [Pg 9] account, joined with the closeness of the town air, which had never agreed with his constitution even in his younger years, soon threw him into that sort of consumption which goes by the name of a galloping one, and, they say, is the most difficult of any to be removed. He died in about three months, without being able to do any great matters concerning the affair which had drawn him from his peaceful home, and according to all probability hastened his fate. Being perfectly sensible, and convinced of his approaching dissolution, he made his will, bequeathing the bulk of his estate to him whose right it was, (his eldest son) then upon his travels through the greatest part of Europe; all his personals, which were very considerable in the Bank, and other public funds, he ordered should

be equally divided between Francis his second son, (at that time a student at Oxford) and Miss Betsy; constituting, at the same time, as trustees to the said testament, Sir Ralph Trusty, his near neighbour in the country, and Mr. Goodman, a wealthy merchant in the city of London; both of them gentlemen of unquestionable integrity, and with whom he had preserved a long and uninterrupted friendship.

On the arrival of this melancholy news, Miss Betsy felt as much grief as it was possible for a heart so young and gay as hers to be capable of; but a little time, for the most part, serves to obliterate the memory of misfortunes of this nature, even in persons of a riper age; and had Miss Betsy been more afflicted than she was, something happened soon after which would have very much contributed to her consolation.

Mr. Goodman having lived without marrying till he had reached an age which one should have imagined would have prevented him from thinking of it at all, at last took it into his head to become a husband. The person he made choice of was called Lady Mellasin, relict of a baronet, who having little or no estate, had accepted of a small employment about the court, in which post he died, leaving her ladyship one daughter, named Flora, in a very destitute condition. Goodman, however, had wealth enough for both, and consulted no other interest than that of his heart.

As for the lady, the motive on which she had consented to be his wife may easily be guessed; and when once made so, gained such an absolute ascendancy over him, that whatever she declared as her will, with him had the force of a law. She had an aversion to the city; he immediately took a house of her chusing at St. James's, inconvenient as it was for his business. Whatever servants she disapproved, though [Pg 10] of ever so long standing, and of the most approved fidelity, were discharged, and others, more agreeable to her, put in their places. In fine, nothing she desired was denied; he considered her as an oracle of wit and wisdom, and thought it would be an unpardonable arrogance to attempt to set his reason against hers.

This lady was no sooner informed of the trust imposed in him, than she told him, she thought it would be highly proper for Miss Betsy to be sent for from the school, and boarded with them, not only as her daughter would be a fine companion for that young orphan, they being much of the same age, and she herself was more capable of improving her mind than any governess of a school could be supposed to be; but that, also, having her under her own eye, he would be more able to discharge his duty towards her as a guardian, than if she were at the distance of near an hundred miles.

There was something in this proposal which had, indeed, the face of a great deal of good-nature and consideration for Miss Betsy, at least it seemed highly so to Mr. Goodman; but as Sir Ralph Trusty was joined with him in the guardianship of that young beauty, and was at that time in London, he thought it proper to consult him on the occasion; which having done, and finding no objection on the part of the other, Lady Mellasin, to shew her great complaisance to the daughter of her husband's deceased friend, sent her own woman to bring her from the boarding-school, and attend her up to London.

Miss Betsy had never seen this great metropolis; but had heard so much of the gay manner in which the genteel part of the world passed their time in it, that she was quite transported at being told she was to be removed thither. Mrs. Prinks (for so Lady Mellasin's woman was called) did not fail to heighten her ideas of the pleasures of the place to which she was going, nor to magnify the goodness of her lady, in taking her under her care, with the most extravagant encomiums: it is not, therefore, to be wondered at, that neither the tears of the good governess, who truly loved her, nor those of her dear Miss Forward, nor of any of those she left behind, could give her any more than a momentary regret to a heart so possessed with the expectations of going to receive every thing with which youth is liable to be enchanted. She promised, however, to keep up a correspondence by letters; which she did, till things, that seemed to her of much more importance, put her L——e acquaintance entirely out of her head.

She was met at the inn where the stage put up, by Mr. Goodman, [Pg 11] in his own coach, accompanied by Miss Flora: the good old gentleman embraced her with the utmost tenderness, and assured her that nothing in his power, or in that of his family, would be wanting to compensate, as much as possible, the loss she had sustained by the death of her parents. The young lady also said many obliging things to her; and they seemed highly taken with each other at this first interview, which gave the honest heart of Goodman an infinite satisfaction.

The reception given her by Lady Mellasin, when brought home, and presented to her by her husband, was conformable to what Mrs. Prinks had made her expect; that lady omitting nothing to make her certain of being always treated by her with the same affection as her own daughter.

Sir Ralph Trusty, on being informed his young charge was come to town, came the next day to Mr. Goodman's to visit her: his lady accompanied him. There had been a great intimacy and friendship between her and the mother of Miss Betsy, and she could not hold in her arms the child of a person so dear to her without letting fall some tears, which were looked upon by the company as the tribute due to the memory of the dead. The conjecture, in part, might be true, but the flow proceeded from the mixture of another motive, not suspected—that of compassion for the living. This lady was a woman of great prudence, piety, and virtue: she had heard many things relating to the conduct of Lady Mellasin, which made her think her a very unfit person to have the care of youth, especially those of her own sex. She had been extremely troubled when Sir Ralph told her that Miss Betsy was sent for from the country to live under such tuition, and would have fain opposed it, could she have done so without danger of creating a misunderstanding between him and Mr.