for some years a pensioner to that lady, was now become a methodist, and had that very morning waited upon her ladyship, and, after rebuking her very severely for her past life, had positively declared, that she would, on no account, be instrumental in carrying on any of her affairs for the future.

The hurry of spirits into which this accident threw the lady, made her despair of possibly finding any other convenience to meet Jones that evening; but, as she began a little to recover from her uneasiness at the disappointment, she set her thoughts to work; when luckily it came into her head to propose to Sophia to go to the play, which was immediately consented to, and a proper lady provided for her companion. Mrs. Honour was likewise dispatched with Mrs. Etoff on the same errand of pleasure; and thus her own house was left free for the safe reception of Mr. Jones, with whom she promised herself two or three hours of uninterrupted conversation, after her return from the place where she dined, which was at a friend's house in a pretty distant part of the town, near her old place of assignation, where she had engaged herself before she was well apprised of the revolution that had happened in the mind and morals of her late confidante.

CHAP. X.

A chapter which, though short, may draw tears from some eyes.

MR. Jones was just dressed to wait on Lady Bellaston, when Mrs. Miller rapped at his door;

and, being admitted, very earnestly desired his company below stairs to drink tea in the par

lour.

6

Upon his entrance into the room, she presently introduced a person to him, saying, This, sir, is my cousin, who hath been so greatly be'holden to your goodness; for which he begs to return you his sincerest thanks.'

The man had scarce entered upon that speech, which Mrs. Miller had so kindly prefaced, when both Jones and he, looking stedfastly at each other, showed at once the utmost tokens of surprise. The voice of the latter began instantly to falter; and, instead of finishing his speech, he sunk down into a chair, crying, 'It is so; I am convinced it is so!'

Bless me! what's the meaning of this?' cries" Mrs. Miller; you are not ill, I hope, cousin? "Some water! a dram this instant!'

'Be not frighted, madam,' cries Jones; I have almost as much need of a dram as your cousin.' We are equally surprised at this unexpected " meeting. Your cousin is an acquaintance of mine, Mrs. Miller.'

'An acquaintance!' cries the man. 'Oh, • Heaven!'

6 Ay, an acquaintance,' repeated Jones, and 4 an honoured acquaintance too. When I do not 'love and honour the man who dares venture every

thing to preserve his wife and children from in'stant destruction, may I have a friend capable of disowning me in adversity.'

"O you are an excellent young man,' cries Mrs Miller: Yes, indeed, poor creature! he hath ventured every thing-If he had not had one of the best of constitutions, it must have 'killed him.'

this is the angel from This is he to whom, be

Cousin,' cries the man, who had now pretty well recovered himself, Heaven whom I meant. 'fore I saw you, I owed the preservation of my Peggy. He it was, to whose generosity every 'comfort, every support, which I have procured for her, was owing. He is indeed the worthiest, bravest, noblest, of all human beings. O cousin, I have obligations to this gentleman of such a • nature!'

'Mention nothing of obligations,' cries Jones eagerly; not a word, I insist upon it, nota word!' (meaning, I suppose, that he would not have him betray the affair of the robbery to any person)— If, by the trifle you have received from me, I have preserved a whole family, sure pleasure was • never bought so cheap.'

C O, sir!' cries the man, I wish you could this instant see my house. If any person had ever a right to the pleasure you mention, I am 'convinced it is yourself. My cousin tells me, she acquainted you with the distress in which she found us. That, sir, is all greatly removed, and chiefly by your goodness.-My children have now a bed to lie on, and they have' they have eternal blessings reward you for 6 it--they have bread to eat. My little boy is ' recovered, my wife is out of danger, and I am 6 happy. All, all owing to you, sir, and to my cousin here, one of the best of women. deed, sir, I must see you at my house. Indeed 6 my wife must see you, and thank you. My children too must express their gratitude. Indeed, sir, they are not without a sense of their obligation; but what is my feeling, when I reflect to whom I owe, that they are now 6 capable of expressing their gratitude! 0,

In

sir! the little hearts, which you have warmed, ' had now been cold as ice without your assist. 'ance.'

Here Jones attempted to prevent the poor man from proceeding; but, indeed, the overflowing of his own heart would of itself have stopped his words. And now Mrs. Miller likewise began to pour forth thanksgivings, as well in her own name, as in that of her cousin, and concluded with saying, "She doubted not but such goodness would meet a glorious reward.'

Jones answered,

He had been sufficiently re'warded already. Your cousin's account, ma'dam,' said he, hath given me a sensation more " pleasing than I have ever known. He must be

a wretch who is unmoved at hearing such a C story: how transporting then must be the thought of having happily acted a part in this 'scene! If there are men who cannot feel the < delight of giving happiness to others, I sincerely C pity them, as they are incapable of tasting what is, in my opinion, a greater honour, a higher interest, and a sweeter pleasure, than the ambitious, the avaricious, or the voluptuous, man can ever obtain.'

The hour of appointment being now come, Jones was forced to take a hasty leave, but not before he had heartily shaken his friend by the hand, and desired to see him again as soon as possible; promising, that he would himself take the first opportunity of visiting him at his own house. He then stepped into his chair, and proceeded to Lady Bellaston's, greatly exulting in the happiness which he had procured to this poor family; nor could he forbear reflecting, without horror, on the dreadful consequences which must have at. tended them, had he listened rather to the voice

of strict justice than to that of mercy, when he was attacked on the high road.

Mrs. Miller sung forth the praises of Jones, during the whole evening, in which Mr. Anderson, while he stayed, so passionately accompa nied her, that he was often on the very point of mentioning the circumstances of the robbery. However, he luckily recollected himself, and avoided an indiscretion, which would have been so much the greater, as he knew Mrs. Miller to be extremely strict and nice in her principles. He was likewise well apprised of the loquacity of this lady; and yet such was his gratitude, that it had almost got the better both of discretion and shame, and made him publish that which would have defamed his own character, rather than omit any circumstances which might do the fullest honour to his benefactor.

CHAP. XI.

In which the reader will be surprised. MR. Jones was rather earlier than the time appointed, and earlier than the lady; whose arrival was hindered, not only by the distance of the place where she dined, but by some other cross accidents, very vexatious to one in her situation of mind. He was accordingly shown into the drawing-room, where he had not been many minutes before the door opened, and in came

no other than Sophia herself, who had left the play before the end of the first act; for this, as we have already said, being a new play, at which two large parties met, the one to damn, and the