I think she said she had good luck in the Indies." "I understand it so, madam," says she," and that she had got his estate." to, for my relief; I durst not leave the room by || sure She began only in general with telling where she lived, what a place she had of it, how gallant a company her lady had always had in the house; how they used used to sit up all night in the house, gaming and dancing; what a fine lady her mistress was, and what a vast deal of money the upper servants got; as for her, she said, her whole business was in the next house, so that she got but little, except one night, that there were twenty guineas given to be divided among the servants, when, she said, she got two guineas and a half for her share. She went on, and told them how many servants there was, and how they were ordered; but, she said there was one Mrs Amy, who was over them all; and that she being the lady's favourite, got a great deal. She did not know, she said, whether Amy was her christian name or her sirname; but she supposed it was her sirname; that they were told she got threescore pieces of gold at one time, being the same night that the rest of the servants had twenty guineas divided among them. I put in at that word, and said it was a vast Ideal to give away; "Why," says I, "it was a portion for a servant."—" Ó, madam!" says she, "it was nothing to what she got afterwards; we that were servants hated her heartily for it; that is to say, we wished it had been our lot in her stead." Then I said again, " Why, it was enough to get her a good husband, and settle her in the world, if she had sense to manage it."-" So it might, to be sure, madam," says she; "for we were told she laid up above 5007; but, I suppose, Mrs Amy was too sensible that her character would require a good portion to put her off." O," said I, "if that was the case, it was another thing." "Nay," says she, "I don't know but they talked very much of a young lord that was very great with her." "And pray what came of her at last?" said I; for I was willing to hear a little (seeing she would talk of it) what she had to say, as well of Amy as of myself. "I don't know, madam," said she, 66 I never heard of her for several years, till the other day I happened to see her." "She "Did you indeed?" says I, (and made mighty strange of it); "what! and in rags, it may be," said I, "that's often the end of such creatures." "Just the contrary, madam," says she. came to visit an acquaintance of mine, little thinking, I suppose, to see me, and, I assure you, she came in her coach." "In her coach!" said I, "upon my word she had made her market then, I suppose; she made hay while the sun shone; was she married, pray?" "I believe she had been married, madam," says she, "but it seems she had been at the East Indies; and if she was married, it was there, to be "Was that her good luck?" said I, "it might be good to her, as to the money indeed, but it was but the part of a jade to call it good luck." Thus far our discourse of Mrs Amy went, and no farther, for she knew no more of her; but then the Quaker unhappily, though undesignedly, put in a question, which the honest, good-humoured creature would have been far from doing if she had known that I carried on the discourse of Amy on purpose to drop Roxana out of the conver sation. But I was not to be made easy too soon. The Quaker put in, "But I think thou said'st something was behind of thy mistress; what didst thou call her, Roxana, was it not? Pray, what became of her ?" Ay, ay, Roxana," says the captain's wife; "pray, sister, let's hear the story of Roxana; it will divert my lady, I'm sure." That's a damn'd lie, said I to myself; if you knew how little 'twould divert me, you would have too much advantage over me; well, I saw no remedy, but the story must come on, so I prepared to hear the worst of it. "Roxana!" says she, "I know not what to think of her; she was so much above us, and so seldom seen, that we could know little of her but by report, but we did sometimes see her too; she was a charming woman indeed, and the footmen used to say that she was to be sent for to court." "To court," said I, "why she was at court, wa'n't she? the Pall Mall is not far from Whitehall." "Yes, madam," says I, "but I mean another way." "I understand thee," says the Quaker; "thou meanest, I suppose, to be mistress to the king.”— Yes, madam," says she. I cannot help confessing what a reserve of pride still was left in me; and though I dreaded the sequel of the story, yet when she talked how handsome and fine a lady this Roxana was, I could not help being pleased and tickled with it, and put in questions two or three times, of how handsome she was? and was she really so fine a woman as they talked of, and the like, on purpose to hear her repeat what the people's opinion of me was, and how I had behaved. "Indeed," says she at last, "she was a most beautiful creature as ever I saw in my life."— "But then," said I, "you never had the opportunity to see her but when she was set out to the best advantage.' "Yes, yes, madam," says she, "I have seen her several times in her dishabille. And I can assure you, she was a very fine woman; and that which was more still, everybody said she did not paint.' This was still agreeable to me one way; but there was a devilish sting in the tail of it all, and this last article was one; wherein she said she had seen me several times in my dishabille. This put me in mind that then she must certainly know me, and it would come out at last; which was death to me but to think of. "Well, but sister," says the captain's wife, "tell my lady about the ball, that's the best of all the story, and of Roxana's dancing in a fine outlandish dress." in the play of Tamerlane, at Paris, or some such." No, indeed, madam," says she, " I assure you, my lady was no actress; she was a fine modest lady, fit to be a princess; everybody said, if she was a mistress, she was fit to be a mistress to "That's one of the brightest parts of her story none but the king; and they talked her up for indeed," says the girl; "the case was this: we the king, as if it had really been so. Besides, had balls and meetings in her ladyship s apart- madam," says she, "my lady danced a Turkish ments every week almost; but one time my lady || dance; all the lords and gentry said it was so ; invited all the nobles to come such a time, and and one of them swore he had seen it danced in she would give them a ball; and there was a vast Turkey himself, so that it could not come from crowd indeed," says she. the theatre at Paris; and then the name Roxana," says she, "was a Turkish name." "I think you said the King was there, sister, didn't you?" "No, madam," says she, "that was the second time, when they said the king had heard how finely the Turkish lady danced, and that he was there to see her; but the king, if his majesty was there, came disguised." "That is what they call incog.," says my friend the Quaker; "thou canst not think the king would disguise himself."Yes," says the girl," it was so, he did not come in public with his guards, but we all knew which was the king well enough, that is to say, which they said was the king." "Well," says the captain's wife," about the Turkish dress; pray let us hear that."-"Why," says she," my lady sat in a fine little drawingroom, which opened into the great room, and where she received the compliments of the company; and when the dancing began, a great lord," says she, "I forget who they called him, (but he was a very great lord or duke, I don't know which), took her out, and danced with her; but after a while, my lady on a sudden shut the drawing-room, and run upstairs with her woman, Mrs Amy; and though she did not stay long (for I suppose she had contrived it all before hand), she came down dressed in the strangest figure that ever I saw in my life; but it was exceeding fine." Here she went on to declare the dress, as 1 have done already; but did it so exactly, that I was surprised at the manner of her telling it; there was not a circumstance of it left out. I was now under a new perplexity; for this young slut gave so complete an account of every thing in the dress, that my friend the Quaker coloured at it, and looked two or three times at me, to see if I did not do so too; for (as she told me afterwards) she immediately perceived it was the same dress that she had seen me have on, as I have seen before. However, as she saw I took no notice of it, she kept her thoughts private to herself; and I did so too, as well as I could. I put in two or three times that she had a good memory, that could be so particular in every part of such a thing. "O madam!" says she, "we that were servants, stood by ourselves in a corner, but so as we could see more than some strangers; besides," said she, "it was all our conversation for several days in the family, and what one did not observe another did."-"Why," says I to her, this was no Persian dress; only, I suppose, your lady was some French comedian, that is to say, a stage Amazon, that put on a counterfeit dress to please the company, such as they used Well," said I, "but that was not your lady's name, I suppose." No, no, madam," said she, "I know that; I know my lady's name and family very well; Roxana was not her name, that's true indeed." Here she run me aground again, for I durst not ask her what was Roxana's real name, lest she had really dealt with the devil, and had boldly given my own name in for answer: so that I was still more and more afraid that the girl had really gotten the secret somewhere or other; though I could not imagine neither how that could be. In a word, I was sick of the discourse, and endeavoured many ways to put an end to it, but it was impossible; for the captain's wife, who called her sister, prompted her, and pressed her to tell it, most ignorantly thinking that it would be a pleasant tale to all of us. Two or three times the Quaker put in, that this Lady Roxana had a good stock of assurance; and that it was likely if she had been in Turkey, she had lived with, or been kept by, some great Bashaw there. But still she would break in upon all such discourse, and fly out into the most extravagant praises of her mistress, the famed Roxana. I run her down as some scandalous woman; that it was not possible to be otherwise; but she would not hear of it; her lady was a person of such and such qualification, that nothing but an angel was like her, to be sure; and yet, after all she could say, her own account brought her down to this; that, in short, her lady kept little less than a gaming ordinary; or, assembly for gallantry and play. as it would be called in the times since that, an All this while I was very uneasy, as I said before, and yet the old story went off again without any discovery, only that I seemed a little concerned that she should liken me to this gay lady, whose character I pretended to run down very much, even upon the foot of her own relation. But I was not at the end of my mortification yet, neither; for now my innocent Quaker threw out an unhappy expression, which put me upon the tenters again. Says she to me," This lady's habit, I fancy, is just such a one as thine by the description of it;" and then turning to the captain's wife, says she, "Ifancy my friend has a finer Turkish or Persian dress, a great deal."— "O! says the girl, "'tis impossible to be finer; my lady's," says she, "was all covered with gold and diamonds; her hair and head-dress, I forgot the name they gave it," said she, "shone like stars, there was so many jewels in it." I never wished my good friend the Quaker out of my company before now; but, indeed, I would "Nay," says the kind Quaker, "if she had any view towards thee, that is no business of mine; and I should be far from desiring thee to inform me." have given some guineas to have been rid of her just now; for beginning to be curious in the com. paring the two dresses, she innocently began a description of mine; and nothing terrified me so much as the apprehension lest she should impor- This alarmed me again; not that I feared tune me to show it, which I was resolved I would trusting the good-humoured creature with it, if never agree to. But before it came to this, she there had been anything of just suspicion in her; pressed my girl to describe the tyhaia, or head- but this affair was a secret I cared not to comdress; which she did so cleverly, that the Quaker municate to anybody. However, I say, this could not help saying mine was just such a one; || alarmed me a little; for as I had concealed and after several other similitudes, all very vexa- everything from her, I was willing to do so still; | tious to me, out comes the kind motion to me to but as she could not but gather up abundance of let the ladies see my dress; and they joined their things from the girl's discourse, which looked toeager desires of it even to importunity. wards me, so she was too penetrating to be put off with such answers as might stop another's mouth. Only there was this double felicity in it, first, that she was not inquisitive to know or find anything out, and not dangerous if she had known the whole story. But, as I say, she could not but gather up several circumstances from the girl's discourse, as particularly the name of Amy, and the several descriptions of the Turkish dress which my friend the Quaker had seen, and taken | so much notice of, as I have said before. I desired to be excused, though I had little to say at first why I declined it; but at last it came into my head to say it was packed up with my other clothes that I had least occasion for, in order to be sent on board the captain's ship; but that if we lived to come to Holland together, (which, by the way, I resolved should never happen), then, I told them, at unpacking my clothes, they should see me dressed in it; but they must not expect I should dance in it like the Lady Roxana, in all her fine things. This carried it off pretty well; and getting over this, got over most of the rest, and I began to be easy again; and, in a word, that I may dismiss the story too as soon as may be, I got rid at last of my visitors, who I had wished gone two hours sooner than they intended it. As soon as they were gone I run up to Amy and gave vent to my passions, by telling her the whole story, and letting her see what mischiefs one false step of hers had like, unluckily, to have involved us all in; more, perhaps, than we could ever have lived to get through. Amy was sensible of it enough, and was just giving her wrath a vent another way, viz., by calling the poor girl all the damned jades and fools (and sometimes worse names) that she could think of; in the middle of which up comes my honest good Quaker, and put an end to our discourse. The Quaker came in smiling, (for she was always soberly cheerful), "Well," says she, "thou art delivered at last; I come to joy thee of it; I perceived thou wert tired grievously of thy visitors." "Indeed," says I, so I was; that foolish young girl held us all in a Canterbury story, I thought she would never have done with it. Why, truly, I thought she was very careful to let thee know she was but a cook-maid. Ay," says I, “and at a gaming-house, or gaming-ordinary, and at the other end of the town too; all which (by the way) she might know, would add very little to her good name among us citizens.' 46 "I can't think," says the Quaker "but she had some other drift in that long discourse; there's something else in her head," says she, "I am satisfied of that." Thought I, are you satisfied of it? I am sure I am the less satisfied for that; at least 'tis but small satisfaction to me to hear you say so. What can this be? says I, and when will my uneasiness have an end? But this was silent, and to myself, you may be sure. But in answer to my friend, the Quaker, I returned, by asking her a question or two about it; as what she thought was in it? and why she thought there was anything in it? For, says I, she can have nothing in it relating to me. As for that, I might have turned it off by jesting with Amy, and asking her who she lived with before she came to live with me? But that! would not do, for we had unhappily anticipated that way of talking, by having often talked how long Amy had lived with me; and which was still worse, by having owned formerly that I had had lodgings in the Pall-mall; so that all these things corresponded too well. There was only one thing that helped me out with the Quaker, and that was the girl's having reported how rich Mrs Amy was grown, and that she kept her coach. as there might be many more Mrs Amys besides mine, so it was not likely to be my Amy, because she was far from such a figure as keeping her coach; and this carried it off from the suspicions which the good friendly Quaker might have in her head. Now, But as to what she imagined the girl had in her head, there lay more difficully in that part a great deal, and I was alarmed at it very much, for my friend the Quaker told me she observed that the girl was in a great passion when she talked of the habit, and more when I had been importuned to show her mine, but declined it. She said she several times perceived her to be in disorder, and to restrain herself with great difficulty; and once or twice she muttered to herself that she had found it out, or that she would find it out, she could not tell whether; and that she often saw tears in her eyes; that when I said my suit of Turkish clothes was put up, but that she should see it when we arrived in Holland, she heard her say softly, she would go over on purpose then. After she had ended her observations, I added. "I observed, too, that the girl looked and talked oddly, and that she was very inquisitive; but ! could not imagine what she aimed at."—" Aimed at," says the Quaker, "'tis plain to me what she aims at. She believes that thou art the same Roxana that danced in the Turkish vest, but she is not certain."-" Does she believe so?" says I, "If I had thought that, I would have put her out of her pain."- "Believe so!" says the Quaker, "Yes; and I began to believe so too, THE FORTUNATE MISTRESS. This was just what I wanteu; for I had, as you have heard, a thousand good reasons why I should put off the voyage, especially with that creature in company; but I had a mind the putting it off should be at his motion, not my own; and he came into it of himself, just as I would This gave me an opportunity to have had it. hang back a little, and to seem as if I was unwilling: I told him, I could not abide to put him to difficulties and perplexities in his business; that now he had hired the great cabin in the ship, and, perhaps, paid some of the money, and, it may be, taken freight for goods; and to make him break it all off again would be a needless charge to him, or, perhaps, a damage to the captain. and should have believed so still, if thou had'st not satisfied me to the contrary by thy taking no notice of it, and by what thou hast said since.". "Should you have believed so," said I, warmly, "I am very sorry for that. Why, would you have taken me for an actress, or a French stage player?"—"No," says the good, kind creature, thou carriest it too far; as soon as thou mad'st thy reflections upon her, I knew it could not be but who could think any other when she described the Turkish dress which thou hast here, with the head tire and jewels, and when she named thy maid Amy too, and several other circumstances concurring? I should certainly have believed it," said she, "if thou hadst not contradicted it; but as soon as I heard thee speak, I concluded it As to that, he said, it was not to be named, was otherwise." "That was very kind," said I, " and I am obliged to you for doing me so much and he would not allow it to be any consideration at all; that he could easily pacify the captain of justice; it is more, it seems, than that young talking creature does."—" Nay," says the Quaker, the ship by telling him the reason of it, and that "indeed she does not do thee justice; for she if he did make him some satisfaction for the disas certainly believes it still, as ever she did."-appointment, it should not be much. "Does she?" said I;-" Aye," says the Quaker; " and I warrant thee she will make thee another "then I visit about it."-" Will she?" says I; believe I shall downright affront her."-" No, thou shalt not affront her," says she, (full of her good humour and temper,) " I will take that part on my hands, for I will affront her for thee, and not let her see thee." I thought that was a very kind offer, but was at a loss how she would be able to do it; and the thought of seeing her again half distracted me, not knowing that temper she would come in, much less what manner to receive her in; but my fast friend and constant comforter the Quaker said she perceived the girl was impertinent, and that I had no inclination to converse with her, and she was resolved But I shall I should not be troubled with her. have occasion to say more of this presently; for this girl went further yet than I thought she had. 66 "But, my dear," says I, "you have not heard me say I am with child, neither can I say so; and if it should not be so at last, then I shall have made a fine piece of work of it indeed; besides," says I, "the two ladies, the captain's wife and her sister, they depend upon our going over, and have made great preparations, and all in compliment to me; what must I say to them ?" "Well, my dear," says he, "if you should not be with child, though I hope you are, yet there is no harm done; the staying three or four months longer in England will be no damage to me, and we can go when we please, when we are sure you are not with child, or when it appearing that you are with child, you shall be down and up again; and as for the captain's wife and sister, leave that part to me; I'll answer for it there shall be no quarrel raised upon the subject; I'll make your excuse to them by the captain himself, so all will be well enough there, I warrant you." It was now time, as I said before, to take This was as much as I could desire; and thus I had indeed some anxious measures with my husband, in order to put off it rested for a while. my voyage; so I fell into talk with him one morning, as he was dressing, and while I was in thoughts about this impatient girl, but believed bed; I pretended I was very ill; and as I had that putting off the voyage would have put an but too easy a way to impose upon him, because end to it all, so I began to be pretty easy; but I he so absolutely believed every thing I said, so I found myself mistaken, for I was brought to the managed my discourse so as that he should un-point of destruction by her again, and that in the derstand by it I was a breeding, though I did not tell him so, most unaccountable manner imaginable. My husband, as he and I had agreed, meeting the captain of the ship, took the freedom to tell him, that he was afraid he must disappoint him, for that something had fallen out which had obliged him to alter his measures, and that his family could not be ready to go time enough for him. However, I brought it about so handsomely, that before he went out of the room he came and sat down by the bed-side, and began to talk very seriously to me upon the subject, about my being so every day ill, and that, as he hoped I was with child, he wouldhave me consider well of it, whether 1 had not best alter my thoughts of the voyage to Holland; for that being sea-sick, and which was worse, if a storm should happen, might be very And after saying abundance dangerously in me. of the kindest things that the kindest of husbands in the world could say, he concluded, that it was his request to me, that I would not think any more of going till after all should be over; but that I would, on the contrary, prepare to lie-in where I was, and where I knew as well as he, Isiness of mine." could be very well provided, and very well assisted. "I know the occasion, sir," says the captain; "I hear your lady has got a daughter more than she expected; I give you joy of it."-"What do you mean by that. ?" says my spouse." Nay, I know nonothing," says the captain, "but what I hear the women tattle over the tea-table. thing, but that you do not go the voyage upon it. which I am sorry for; but you know your own affairs," added the captain," "that is no bu "Well but," says my husband, "I must make you some satisfaction for the disappointment,” 2 F and so he pulls out his money. "No, no," says the captain; and so they fell to straining their compliments one upon another; but, in short, my spouse gave him three or four guineas, and made him take it; and so the first discourse went off again, and they had no more of it. But it did not go off so easily with me; for now, in a word, the clouds began to thicken about me, and I had alarms on every side. My husband told me what the captain had said; but very happily took it, that the captain had brought a tale by halves, and having heard it one way, had told it another; and that neither could he understand the captain, neither did the captain understand himself, so he contented himself to tell me, he said, word for word, as the captain delivered it. How I kept my husband from discovering my disorder you shall hear presently; but let it sufffce to say just now, that if my husband did not understand the captain, nor the captain understand himself, yet I understood them both very well; and, to tell the truth, it was a worse shock than ever I had had yet. Invention supplied me, indeed, with a sudden motion to avoid shewing my surprize; for as my spouse and I were sitting by a little table near the fire, I reached out my hand, as if I had intended to take a spoon which lay on the other side, and threw one of the candles off the table; and then snatching it up, started up upon my feet, and stooped to the lap of my gown, and took it in my hand; "O" says I," my gown is spoiled; the candle has greased it prodigiously." This furnished me with an excuse to my spouse to break off the discourse for the present, and call Amy down; and Amy not coming presently, I said to him, "My dear, I must run up stairs and put it off, and let Amy clean it a little." So my husband rose up too, and went into a closet where he kept his papers and books, and fetched out a book, and sat down by himself to read. Glad I was that I had got away, and up I ran to Amy, who, as it happened, was alone. " O, Amy" says I, "we are all utterly undone." And with that, I burst out a crying, and could not speak a word for a great while. I cannot help saying, that some very good reflections offered themselves upon this head; it presently occurred-What a glorious testimony it is to the justice of Providence, and to the concern Providence has in guiding all the affairs of men, (even the least as well as the greatest,) that the most secret crimes are, by the most unforeseen accidents, brought to light and discovered Another reflection was-How just it is that sin and shame follow one another so constantly at the heels; that they are not like attendants only, but like cause and consequence, necessarily connected one with another; that the crime going before, the scandal is certain to follow; and that it is not in the power of human nature to conceal the first or avoid the last. know, and persuaded me to compose myself, and not to cry so. "Why madam, if my master should come up now," says she, "he will see what a disorder you are in; he will know you have been crying, and then he will want to know the cause of it." With that I broke out again. "O, he knows it already, Amy," says I, "he knows all! It is all discovered, and we are undone!" Amy was thunderstruck now indeed. "Nay," says Amy, "if that be true, we are undone indeed; but that can never be; that is impossible, I am sure." "No, no," says I, "it is far from impossible, for I tell you it is so ;" and by this time, being a little recovered, I told her what discourse my husband and the captain had had together, and what the captain had said. This put Amy into such a hurry, that she cried, she raved, she swore and cursed like a mad thing; then she upbraided me, that I would not let her kill the girl when she would have done it, and that it was all my own doing, and the like. Well, however, I was not for killing the girl yet; I could not bear the thoughts of that neither. We spent half an hour in these extravagancies, and brought nothing out of them neither; for indeed we could do nothing or say nothing that was to the purpose; for if anything was to come out-of-the-way, there was no hindering it, nor help for; so after thus giving vent to myself by crying, I began to reflect how I had left my spouse below, and what I had pretended to come up for; so I changed my gown that I pretended the candle fell upon, and put on another, and went down. When I had been down a good while, and found my spouse did not fall into the story again, as I expected, I took heart and called for it. 'My dear," said I, "the fall of the candle put you out of your history; won't you go on with it ?"-"What history?" says he.-"Why," says I, "about the captain."-." Oh," says he, "I had done with it; I know no more than the captain told a broken piece of news that he had heard by halves, and told more by halves than he heard; namely, of your being with child, and that you could not go the voyage." I perceived my husband entered not into the thing at all, but took it for a story, which being told two or three times over, was puzzled, and come to nothing; and that all that was meant by it was, what he knew, or thought he knew already, viz., that I was with child, which he wished might be true. His ignorance was a cordial to my soul, and I cursed them in my thoughts that should ever undeceive him; and as I saw him willing to have the story end there, as not worth being further mentioned, I closed it too; and said, I supposed the captain had it from his wife; she might have found somebody else to make her remarks upon, and so it passed off with my husband well enough, and I was still safe there, where I thought myself in most danger. But I had two uneasi Inesses still; the first was, lest the captain and my spouse should meet again, and enter into fa Ither discourse about it; the second was, lest the busy impertinent girl should come again, and when she came, how to prevent her seeing Amy, which was an article as material as any of the "What shall I do, Amy 2" said I, as soon as could speak, "and what will become of me? And then I cried again so vehement.y that could say no more a great while. Amy was frightened almost out of her wits, but knew nothing what the matter was; but she begged to |