BOOK XIV. CONTAINING TWO DAYS.
6. Chapter vi. Containing a scene...
(continued)
He had scarce spoke these words, when Mrs Miller, who heard them all,
suddenly threw open the door, and coming out to him, in a flood of
tears, said, "O Mr Jones! you are certainly one of the best young men
alive. I give you a thousand thanks for your kind offer of your
service; but, alas! sir, it is out of your power to preserve my poor
girl.--O my child! my child! she is undone, she is ruined for ever!"
"I hope, madam," said Jones, "no villain"----"O Mr Jones!" said she,
"that villain who yesterday left my lodgings, hath betrayed my poor
girl; hath destroyed her.--I know you are a man of honour. You have a
good--a noble heart, Mr Jones. The actions to which I have been myself
a witness, could proceed from no other. I will tell you all: nay,
indeed, it is impossible, after what hath happened, to keep it a
secret. That Nightingale, that barbarous villain, hath undone my
daughter. She is--she is--oh! Mr Jones, my girl is with child by him;
and in that condition he hath deserted her. Here! here, sir, is his
cruel letter: read it, Mr Jones, and tell me if such another monster
lives."
The letter was as follows:
"DEAR NANCY,
"As I found it impossible to mention to you what, I am afraid, will
be no less shocking to you, than it is to me, I have taken this
method to inform you, that my father insists upon my immediately
paying my addresses to a young lady of fortune, whom he hath
provided for my--I need not write the detested word. Your own good
understanding will make you sensible, how entirely I am obliged to
an obedience, by which I shall be for ever excluded from your dear
arms. The fondness of your mother may encourage you to trust her
with the unhappy consequence of our love, which may be easily kept a
secret from the world, and for which I will take care to provide, as
I will for you. I wish you may feel less on this account than I have
suffered; but summon all your fortitude to your assistance, and
forgive and forget the man, whom nothing but the prospect of certain
ruin could have forced to write this letter. I bid you forget me, I
mean only as a lover; but the best of friends you shall ever find in
your faithful, though unhappy,
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