LETTER LXXII
MY DEAR LADY,
I will now pursue my last affecting subject; for the visit is over; but a sad situation I am in with Mr. B. for all that: but, bad as it is, I'll try to forget it, till I come to it in course.
At four in the afternoon Mr. B. came in to receive his guests, whom he expected at five. He came up to me. I had just closed my last letter; but put it up, and set before me your ladyship's play subjects.
"So, Pamela!--How do you do now?"
Your ladyship may guess, by what I wrote before, that I could not give any extraordinary account of myself--"As well--as well, Sir, as possible;" half out of breath.
"You give yourself strange melancholy airs of late, my dear. All that cheerfulness, which used to delight me whenever I saw you, I am sorry for it, is quite vanished. You and I must shortly have a little serious talk together."
"When you please. Sir. I believe it is only being used to this smoky thick air of London!--I shall be better when you carry me into the country. I dare say I shall. But I never was in London so long before, you know, Sir."
"All in good time, Pamela!--But is this the best appearance you choose to make, to receive such guests?"
"If it displeases you. Sir, I will dress otherwise in a minute."
"You look well in any thing. But I thought you'd have been better dressed. Yet it would never have less become you; for of late your eyes have lost that brilliancy that used to strike me with a lustre, much surpassing that of the finest diamonds."
"I am sorry for it, Sir. But as I never could pride myself in deserving such a kind of compliment, I should be too happy, forgive me, my dearest Mr. B., if the failure be not rather in your eyes, than in mine."
He looked at me steadfastly. "I fear, Pamela--But don't be a fool."
"You are angry with me. Sir?"
"No, not I."
"Would you have me dress better?"
"No, not I. If your eyes looked a little more brilliant, you want no addition." Down he went.
Strange short speeches, these, my lady, to what you have heard from his dear mouth!--"Yet they shall not rob me of the merit of a patient sufferer, I am resolved," thought I.
Now, my lady, as I doubted not my rival would come adorned with every outward ornament, I put on only a white damask gown, having no desire to vie with her in appearance; for a virtuous and honest heart is my glory, I bless God! I wish the countess had the same to boast of!
About five, their ladyships came in the countess's new chariot: for she has not been long out of her transitory mourning, and dressed as rich as jewels, and a profusion of expense, could make her.
I saw them from the window alight. O how my heart throbbed!--"Lie still," said I, "busy thing! why all this emotion?--Those shining ornaments cover not such a guileless flatterer as thou. Why then all this emotion?"
Polly Barlow came up instantly from Mr. B.
I hastened down; tremble, tremble, tremble, went my feet, in spite of all the resolution I had been endeavouring so long to collect together.
Mr. B. presented the countess to me, both of us covered with blushes; but from very different motives, as I imagine.
"The Countess of---, my dear."
She saluted me, and looked, as I thought, half with envy, half with shame: but one is apt to form people's countenances by what one judges of their hearts.