was so apparently intended by the lady, he resolved against it. At length, he came to this determination; to go according to his appointment, to argue the matter with the lady, and to convince her, if possible, that, from a regard to his honour only, he must discontinue her acquaintance. If this failed to satisfy her, and she still persisted in her threats to acquaint his wife with the affair, he then resolved, whatever pain it cost him, to communicate the whole truth himself to Amelia, from whose goodness he doubted not but to obtain an absolute remission. CHAPTER VIII. In which Amelia appears in a light more amiable than gay. WE will now return to Amelia, whom we left in some perturbation of mind departing from Mrs. Atkinson. Though she had before walked through the streets in a very improper dress with Mrs. Atkinson, she was unwilling, especially as she was alone, to return in the same manner. Indeed, she was scarce able to walk in her present condition; for the case of poor Atkinson had much affected her tender heart, and her eyes had overflown with many tears. It occurred likewise to her at present, that she had not a single shilling in her pocket, or at home, to provide food for herself and her family. In this situation she resolved to go immediately to the pawnbroker, whither she had gone before, and to deposit her picture for what she could raise upon it. She then immediately took a chair, and put her design in execution. and now it being past four o'clock, she despaired of seeing her husband till the evening. She therefore provided some tarts for her children, and then eating nothing but a slice of bread and butter herself, she began to prepare for the captain's supper. There were two things of which Eer husband was particularly fond, which, though it may bring the simplicity of his taste into great contempt with some of my readers, I will venture to name. These were a fowl and egg sauce, and mutton broth; both which Amelia immediately purchased. As soon as the clock struck seven, the good creature went down into the kitchen, and began to exercise her talents of cookery, of which she was a great mistress, as she was of every economical office, from the highest to the lowest; and as no woman could outshine her in a drawing-room, so none could make the drawing-room itself shine brighter than Amelia. And if I may speak a bold truth, I question whether it be possible to view this fine creature in a more amiable light, than while she was dressing her husband's supper, with her little children playing round her. It was now half an hour past eight, and the meat almost ready, the table likewise neatly spread with materials borrowed from her landlady, and she began to grow a little uneasy at Booth's not returning; when a sudden knock at the door roused her spirits, and she cried, There, my dear, there is your good papa;' at which words she darted swiftly up stairs, and opened the door to her husband. She desired her husband to walk up to the dining-room, and she would come to him in an instant; for she was desirous to increase his pleasure, by surprising him The intrinsic value of the gold, in which with his two favourite dishes. She then this picture was set, and of the little dia- went down again to the kitchen, where the monds, which surrounded it, amounted to maid of the house undertook to send up the nine guineas. This, therefore, was ad-supper, and she with her children returned vanced to her, and the prettiest face in the to Booth. world (such is often the fate of beauty) was deposited, as of no value, into the bargain. When she came home, she found the following letter from Mrs. Atkinson: 'MY DEAREST MADAM, 'As I know your goodness, I could not delay a moment acquainting you with the happy turn of my affairs since you went. The doctor, on his return to visit husmy band, has assured me that the captain was on the recovery, and in very little danger; and I really think he is since mended. I hope to wait on you soon, with better news. Heaven bless you, dear madam! and believe me to be, with the utmost sincerity, 'Your most obliged, obedient humble servant, ATKINSON.' Amelia was really pleased with this letter; He then told her concisely what had happened, with relation to the girl-to which she scarce made any answer; but asked him if he had not dined? He assured her he had not eat a morsel the whole day. 'Will,' says she, my dear, I am a fellowsufferer; but we shall both enjoy our supper the more; for I have made a little provision for you, as I guessed what might be the And here is a clean cloth and a smiling case. I have got you a bottle of wine too. in unusual good spirits to-night, and I have countenance, my dear Will. Indeed, I am made a promise to the children, which you must confirm; I have promised to let them sit up this one night to supper with us.-Nay, don't look so serious; cast off all uneasy thoughts-I have a present for you here-no matter how I came by it.' "At which words she put eight guineas into his hand, crying, 'Come, my dear Bill, be gay -fortune will yet be kind to us—at least, let us be happy, this night. Indeed, the pleasures of many women, during their whole lives, will not amount to my happiness this night, if you will be in good humour.' Booth fetched a deep sigh, and cried, How unhappy am I, my dear, that I can't sup with you to-night!' As in the delightful month of June, when the sky is all serene, and the whole face of nature looks with a pleasing and smiling aspect, suddenly a dark cloud spreads itself over the hemisphere, the sun vanishes from our sight, and every object is obscured by a dark and horrid gloom. So happened it to Amelia; the joy that had enlightened every feature, disappeared in a moment; the lustre forsook her shining eyes; and all the little loves that played and wantoned in her cheeks, hung their drooping heads, and with a faint trembling voice, she repeated her husband's words; Not sup with me tonight, my dear!' I Indeed, my dear,' answered he, 'I cannot. I need not tell you how uneasy it makes me, or that I am as much disappointed as yourself; but I am engaged to sup abroad. I have absolutely given my honour; and besides, it is on business of importance. 'My dear,' said she, I say no more. am convinced you would not willingly sup from me. I own it is a very particular disappointment to me to-night, when I had proposed unusual pleasures; but the same reason which is sufficient to you, ought to be so to me.' Booth made his wife a compliment on her ready compliance, and then asked her, what she intended by giving him that money, or how she came by it? 'I intend my dear,' said she, to give it you; that is all. As to the manner in which I came by it, you know, Billy, that is not very material. You are well assured I got it by no means which would displease you; and, perhaps, another time I may tell you.' Booth asked no farther questions; but he returned it her, and insisted on her taking all but one guinea, saying, she was the safest treasurer. He then promised her to make all the haste home in his power, and he hoped, he said, to be with her in an hour and a half at the farthest, and then took his leave. When he was gone, the poor disappointed Amelia sat down to supper with her children; with whose company she was forced to console herself for the absence of her husband. CHAPTER IX A very tragic scene. THE clock had struck eleven, and Amelia was just proceeding to put her children to bed, when she heard a knock at the streetdoor. Upon which the boy cried out, "There's papa, mamma, pray let me stay and see him before I go to bed.' This was a favour very easily obtained; for Amelia instantly ran down stairs, exulting in the goodness of her husband for returning so soon, though half an hour was already elapsed beyond the time in which he promised to return. Poor Amelia was now again disappointed; for it was not her husband at the door, but a servant with a letter for him, which he delivered into her hands. She immediately returned up stairs, and said, 'It was not your papa, my dear; but I hope it is one who hath brought us some good news.' For Booth had told her, that he hourly expected to receive such from the great man, and had desired her to open any letter which came to him in his absence. Amelia therefore broke open the letter, and read as follows: "SIR, After what hath passed between us, I need only tell you that I know you supped this very night alone with Miss Matthews: a fact which will upbraid you sufficiently, without putting me to that trouble, and will very well account for my desiring the favour of seeing you to-morrow in HydePark, at six in the morning. You will forgive me reminding you once more how inexcusable this behaviour is in you, who are possessed in your own wife of the most inestimable jewel. Yours, &c. "T. JAMES. "I shall bring pistols with me.' It is not easy to describe the agitation of Amelia's mind when she read this letter. She threw herself into her chair, turned as pale as death, began to tremble all over, and had just power enough left to tap the bottle of wine, which she had hitherto preserved entire for her husband, and to drink off a large bumper. The little boy perceived the strange symptoms which appeared in his mother; and running to her, he cried, 'What's the matter, my dear mamma? you don't look well!-No harm hath happened to papa, I hope-sure that bad man hath not carried him away again?" Amelia answered, 'No, ch..d, nothingnothing at all.' And then a arge shower of tears came to her assistance; which presently after produced the same in the eyes of both the children. Amelia, after a short silence, looking ten derly at her children, cried out, 'It is too alone than she opened it, and read as folmuch, too much to bear. Why did I bring lows:these little wretches into the world! why were these innocents born to such a fate! She then threw her arms round them both, (for they were embracing her knees,) and cried, O, my children! my children! forgive me, my babes!-forgive me that I have brought you into such a world as this! You are undone-my children are un done!' The little boy answered with great spirit, How undone, mamma? my sister and don't care a farthing for being undone don't cry so upon our accounts-we are both very well; indeed we are-but do pray tell us. I am sure some accident hath happened to poor papa.' "MY DEAREST, SWEETEST LOVE, "I write this from the bailiff's house, where I was formerly, and to which I am again brought, at the suit of that villain Trent. I have the misfortune to think I owe this accident, (I mean, that it happened to-night,) to my own folly, in endeavouring to keep a secret from you. O, my dear! had I had resolution to confess my crime to you, your forgiveness would, I am convinced, have cost me only a few blushes, and I had now been happy in your arms. Fool that I was, to leave you on such an account, and to add to a former transgression a new one! -Yet, by Heavens! I mean not a trans Mention him no more,' cries Amelia,gression of the like kind; for of that I am 'your papa is--indeed he is a wicked manhe cares not for any of us-0, Heavens ! is this the happiness I promised myself this evening!' At which words she fell into an agony, holding both her children in her arms. The maid of the house now entered the room, with a letter in her hand, which she had received from a porter, whose arrival the reader will not wonder to have been unheard by Amelia in her present condi tion. not, nor ever will be, guilty; and when you know the true reason of my leaving you tonight, I think you will pity, rather than upbraid me. I am sure you would, if you knew the compunction with which I left you to go to the most worthless, the most infamous-do guess the rest-guess that crime still believe me no more guilty than I amwith which I cannot stain my paper-but or, if it will lessen your vexation at what hath befallen me, believe me as guilty as you please, and think me, for a while at least, as undeserving of you as I think myself. This paper and pen are so bad, I question whether you can read what I write; I almost doubt whether I wish you should. The maid, upon her entrance into the room, perceiving the situation of Amelia, cried out, 'Good Heavens! madam, what's the matter? Upon which Amelia, who had a little recovered herself after the last vio-Yet this I will endeavour to make as legible lent vent of her passion, started up, and cried-Nothing Mrs. Susan--nothing extraordinary. I am subject to these fits: times; but I am very well now. Come, my dear children, I am very well again; indeed I am. You must now go to bed; Mrs. Susan will be so good as to put you to bed.' some 'But why doth not papa love us?' cries the little boy; 'I am sure we have none of us done any thing to disoblige him.' This innocent question of the child so stung Amelia, that she had the utmost difficulty to prevent a relapse. However, she took another dram of wine; for so it might be called to her, who was the most temperate of women, and never exceeded three glasses on any occasion. In this glass she drank her children's health, and soon after so well soothed and composed them, that they went quietly away with Mrs. Susan. The maid, in the shock she had conceived at the melancholy, indeed frightful scene, which had presented itself to her at her first coming into the room, had quite forgot the letter which she held in her hand. However, just at her departure, she recollected it, and delivered it to Amelia; who was no sooner as I can-be comforted, my dear love, and still keep up your spirits with the hopes of better days. The doctor will be in town to-morrow; and I trust on his goodness for my delivery once more from this place, and that I shall soon be able to repay him. That Heaven may bless and preserve you, is the prayer of, My dearest love, your ever fond, "Affectionate, and, hereafter, "Faithful husband, "W. BOOTH." Amelia pretty well guessed the obscure meaning of this letter, which, though at another time it might have given her unspeakable torment, was, at present, rather of the medicinal kind, and served to allay her anguish. Her anger to Booth, too, began a little to abate, and was softened by her concern for his misfortune. Upon the whole, however, she passed a miserable and sleepless night; her gentle mind torn and distracted with various and contending passions, distressed with doubts, and wandering in a kind of twilight, which presented her only objects of different degrees of horror, and where black despair closed at a small distance the gloomy prospect. CHAPTER I. BOOK XII. The book begins with polite history. BEFORE we return to the miserable couple, whom we left at the end of the last book, we will give our reader the more cheerful view of the gay and happy family of Colonel James. Mrs. James, when she could not, as we have seen, prevail with Amelia to accept that invitation, which, at the desire of the colonel, she had so kindly and obediently carried her, returned to her husband, and acquainted him with the ill success of her embassy; at which, to say the truth, she was almost as much disappointed as the colonel himself; for he had not taken a much stronger liking to Amelia, than she herself had conceived for Booth. This will account for some passages, which may have a little surprised the reader, in the former chapters of this history, as we were not then at leisure to communicate to them a hint of this kind; it was, indeed, on Mr. Booth's account, that she had been at the trouble of changing her dress at the masquerade. But her passions of this sort, happily for her, were not extremely strong; she was, therefore, easily balked; and as she met with no encouragement from Booth, she soon gave way to the impetuosity of Miss Matthews; and from that time, scarce thought more of the affair, till her husband's design against the wife revived hers likewise; insomuch, that her passion was, at this time, certainly strong enough for Booth, to produce a good hearty hatred for Amelia, whom she now abused to the colonel in very gross terms, both on the account of her poverty and her insolence; for so she termed the refusal of all her offers. reason from which Mrs. James had contracted her aversion to Amelia. The colonel therefore employed an inferior kind of pimp to watch the lodgings of Miss Matthews, and to acquaint him if Booth, whose person was known to the pimp, made any visit there. The pimp faithfully performed his office, and having last night made the wished-for discovery, immediately acquainted his master with it. Upon this news, the colonel presently despatched to Booth the short note which we have before seen. He sent it to his own house instead of Miss Matthews's, with hopes of that very accident which actually did happen. Not that he had any ingredient of the bully in him, and desired to be prevented from fighting, but with a prospect of injuring Booth in the affection and esteem of Amelia, and of recommending himself somewhat to her by appearing in the light of her champion; for which purpose he added that compliment to Amelia in his letter. He concluded upon the whole, that, if Booth himself opened the letter, he would certainly meet him the next morning; but if his wife should open it before he came home, it might have the effects before mentioned; and, for his future expostulation with Booth, it would not be in Amelia's power to prevent it. Now it happened, that this pimp had more masters than one. Amongst these was the worthy Mr. Trent, for whom he had often done business of the pimping vocation. He had been employed indeed in the service of the great peer himself, under the direction of the said Trent, and was the very person who had assisted the said Trent in dogging Booth and his wife to the operahouse on the masquerade night. This subaltern pimp was with his superior The colonel seeing no hopes of soon pos-Trent yesterday morning, when he found sessing his new mistress, began, like a pru- a bailiff with him, in order to receive his indent and wise man, to turn his thoughts to-structions for the arresting Booth; when wards the securing his old one. From what the bailiff said, it would be a very difficult his wife had mentioned, concerning the be- matter to take him; for that to his knowhaviour of the shepherdess, and particularly ledge he was as shy a cock as as any in Engher preference of Booth, he had little doubt land. The subaltern immediately acquainted but that this was the identical Miss Mat-Trent with the business in which he was thews. He resolved therefore to watch her employed by the colonel. Upon which closely, in hopes of discovering Booth's in-Trent enjoined him the moment he had set trigue with her. In this, besides the re-him to give immediate notice to the bailiff; mainder of affection which he yet preserved which he agreed to, and performed accordfor that lady, he had another view, as it ingly. would give him a fair pretence to quarrel The bailiff, on receiving this notice, imwith Booth; who, by carrying on this in- mediately set out for his stand at an aletrigue, would have broke his word and ho-house, within three doors of Miss Matnour given to him. And he began now to thews's lodgings. At which, unfortunately hate poor Booth heartily, from the same for poor Booth, he arrived a very few minutes before Booth left that lady in order to return to Amelia. 'And are you indeed his wife, madam " cries Mrs. Bailiff, a little softened. 'Yes, indeed, and upon my honour,' an If this be the case,' cries the other, 'you may walk up stairs if you please. Heaven forbid, I should part man and wife. Indeed, I think they can never be too much together. But I never will suffer any bad doings in my house, nor any of the town ladies to come to gentlemen here. These were several matters of which we thought necessary our reader should be in-swers Amelia. formed; for, besides that it conduces greatly to a perfect understanding of all history, there is no exercise of the mind of a sensible reader more pleasant than the tracing the several small and almost imperceptible links in every chain of events by which all the great actions of the world are produced. We will now in the next chapter proceed with our history. CHAPTER II. Amelia answered, that she liked her the better; for, indeed, in her present disposition, Amelia was as much exasperated against wicked women as the virtuous mistress of the house, or any other virtuous woman, could be. The bailiff's wife then ushered Amelia In which Amelia visits her husband. up stairs, and having unlocked the prisonAMELIA, after much anxious thinking, in er's doors, cried, Captain, here is your which she sometimes flattered herself that lady, sir, come to see you.' At which words, her husband was less guilty than she had at Booth started up from his chair, and caught first imagined him, and that he had some Amelia in his arms, embracing her for a good excuse to make for himself, (for, in- considerable time with so much rapture, deed, she was not so able as willing to make that the bailiff's wife, who was an eye-witone for him,) at length resolved to set out ness of this violent fondness, began to susfor the bailiff's castle. Having, therefore, pect whether Amelia had really told her strictly recommended the care of her chil-truth. However, she had some little awe dren to her good landlady, she sent for a hackney coach, and ordered the coachman to drive to Gray's-Inn-lane. When she came to the house, and asked for the captain, the bailiff's wife, who came to the door, guessing by the greatness of her beauty, and the disorder of her dress, that she was a young lady of pleasure, answered, surlily, Captain! I do not know of any captain that is here, not I! For this good woman was, as well as dame Purgante in Prior, a bitter enemy to all whores; especially to those of the handsome kind; for some such she suspected to go shares with her in a certain property to which the law gave her the sole right. of the captain; and for fear of being in the wrong, did not interfere, but shut the door and turned the key. When Booth found himself alone with his wife, and had vented the first violence of his rapture in kisses and embraces, he looked tenderly at her, and cried, 'Is it possible, Amelia, is it possible you can have this goodness to follow such a wretch as me to such a place as this-or do you come to upbraid me with my guilt, and to sink me down to that perdition I so justly deserve?' 'Am I so given to upbraiding, then?' says she, in a gentle voice; have I ever given you occasion to think I would sink you to perdition?' 'Far be it from me, my love, to think so," answered he. And yet you may forgive the utmost fears of an offending, penitent sinner. I know, indeed, the extent of your goodness, and yet I know my guilt so Amelia replied, she was certain that Captain Booth was there. Well, if he is so,' cries the bailiff's wife, you may come into the kitchen if you will-and he shall be called down to you if you have any business with him. At the same time she muttered some-greatthing to herself, and concluded a little more intelligibly, though still in a muttering voice, that she kept no such house. Amelia whose innocence gave her no suspicion of the true cause of this good woman's sullenness, was frightened, and began to fear she knew not what. At last she made a shift to totter into the kitchen, when the mistress of the house asked her, 'Well, madam, who shall I tell the captain wants to speak with him?' 'I ask your pardon, madam,' cries Amelia; in my confusion I really forgot you did not know me-tell him, if you please, that I am his wife.' 'Alas! Mr. Booth,' said she,' what guilt is this which you mention, and which you writ to me of last night? Sure by your mentioning to me so much, you intend to tell me more, nay, indeed, to tell me all; and not leave my mind open to suspicions perhaps ten times worse than the truth.' Will you give me a patient hearing? said he. 'I will indeed,' answered she; nay, I am prepared to hear the worst you can unfold; nay, perhaps, the worst is short of my apprehensions.' Booth then, after a little farther apology, began, and related to her the whole that had |