best I have, do, Susan, Will your ladyship be

"Not upon my account," says the lady; "I will have no person disturbed for me. If you have a room that is commonly decent, it will serve me very well, though it be never so plain. I beg, madam, you will not give yourself so much. trouble on my account." "Oh, madam!” cries the other, "I have several good rooms for that matter, but none good enough for your honour's ladyship. However, as you are so condescending to take up with the get a fire in the Rose this minute. pleased to go up now, or stay till the fire is lighted?" "I think I have sufficiently warmed myself," answered the lady; "so, if you please, I will go now; I am afraid I have kept people, and particularly that gentleman (meaning Partridge), too long in the cold already. Indeed, I cannot bear to think of keeping any person from the fire this dreadful weather." She then departed with her maid, the landlady marching with two lighted candles before her.

When that good woman returned, the conversation in the kitchen was all upon the charms of the young lady. There is indeed in perfect beauty a power which none almost can withstand; for my landlady, though she was not pleased at the negative given to the supper, declared she had never seen so lovely a creature. Partridge ran out into the most extravagant encomiums on her face, though he could not refrain from paying some compliments to the gold lace on her habit; the post-boy sung forth the praises of her goodness, which were likewise echoed by the other post-boy, who was now come in. "She's a true good lady, I warrant her," says he; "for she hath mercy upon dumb creatures; for she asked me every now and then upon the journey, if I did not think she should hurt the horses by riding too fast! and when she came in, she charged me to give them as much corn as ever they would eat."

Such charms are there in affability, and so sure is it to attract the praises of all kinds of people. It may indeed be compared to the celebrated Mrs. Hussey. It is equally sure

A celebrated mantua-maker in the Strand, famous for setting off the shapes of women.

VOL. II.

I

to set off every female perfection to the highest advantage, and to palliate and conceal every defect. A short reflection, which we could not forbear making in this place, where my reader hath seen the loveliness of an affable deportment; and truth will now oblige us to contrast it, by showing

the reverse.

CHAPTER IV.

CONTAINING INFALLIBLE NOSTRUMS FOR PROCURING UNIVERSAL DISESTEEM AND HATRED.

THE lady had no sooner laid herself on her pillow, than the waiting-woman returned to the kitchen to regale with some of those dainties which her mistress had refused.

The company, at her entrance, showed her the same respect which they had before paid to her mistress, by rising; but she forgot to imitate her by desiring them to sit down again. Indeed, it was scarce possible they should have done so; for she placed her chair in such a posture, as to occupy almost the whole fire. She then ordered a chicken to be broiled that instant, declaring, if it was not ready in a quarter of an hour, she would not stay for it. Now, though the said chicken was then at roost in the stable, and required the several ceremonies of catching, killing, and picking, before it was brought to the gridiron, my landlady would nevertheless have undertaken to do all within the time; but the guest being unfortunately admitted behind the scenes must have been witness to the fourberie; the poor woman was therefore obliged to confess that she had none in the house; “but, madam," said she, "I can get any kind of mutton in an instant from the butcher's."

"Do you think, then," answered the waiting-gentlewoman, "that I have the stomach of a horse, to eat mutton at this time of night? Sure you people that keep inns imagine your betters are like yourselves. Indeed, I expect to get

nothing at this wretched place. I wonder my lady would
stop at it. I suppose none but tradesmen and graziers ever
call here." The landlady fired at this indignity offered to
her house; however, she suppressed her temper, and contented
herself with saying, Very good quality frequented it, she
thanked heaven! "Don't tell me," cries the other, "of
quality! I believe I know more of people of quality than
such as you. But, prithee, without troubling me with any of
your impertinence, do tell me what I can have for supper;
for though I cannot eat horse-flesh, I am really hungry."
Why truly, madam," answered the landlady, "you could
not take me again at such a disadvantage; for I must con-
fess, I have nothing in the house, unless a cold piece of
beef, which indeed a gentleman's-footman and the post-boy
have almost cleared to the bone." "Woman," said Mrs.
Abigail (so for shortness we will call her), "I entreat you
not to make me sick. If I had fasted a month, I could not
eat what had been touched by the fingers of such fellows :
Is there nothing neat or decent to be had in this horrid
place?" "What think
you of
some eggs and bacon,
madam?" said the landlady. "Are your eggs new laid?
are you certain they were laid to-day? and let me have the
bacon cut very nice and thin; for I can't endure any thing
that's gross. Prithee, try if you can do a little tolerably
for once, and don't think you have a farmer's wife, or some
of those creatures in the house."-The landlady began then
to handle her knife; but the other stopt her, saying,
"Good woman, I must insist upon your first washing your
hands; for I am extremely nice, and have been always used
from my cradle to have every thing in the most elegant
manner."

The landlady, who governed herself with much difficulty, began now the necessary preparations; for as to Susan, she was utterly rejected, and with such disdain, that the poor wench was as hard put to it to restrain her hands from violence, as her mistress had been to hold her tongue. This indeed Susan did not entirely; for though she literally kept it within her teeth, yet there it muttered many "marry-come

ups, as good flesh and blood as yourself;" with other such indignant phrases.

While the supper was preparing, Mrs. Abigail began to lament she had not ordered a fire in the parlour; but, she said, that was now too late. "However," said she, "I have novelty to recommend a kitchen; for I do not believe I ever eat in one before." Then turning to the post-boys, she asked them, "Why they were not in the stable with their horses? If I must eat my hard fare here, madam," cries she to the landlady, "I beg the kitchen may be kept clear, that I may not be surrounded with all the blackguards in town; as for you, sir," says she to Partridge, "you look somewhat like a gentleman, and may sit still if you please; I don't desire to disturb any body but mob."

“Yes, yes, madam," cries Partridge, "I am a gentleman, I do assure you, and I am not so easily to be disturbed. Non semper vox casualis est verbo nominativus." This Latin she took to be some affront, and answered, "You may be a gentleman, sir; but you don't show yourself as one to talk Latin to a woman." Partridge made a gentle reply, and concluded with more Latin; upon which she tossed up her nose, and contented herself by abusing him with the name of a great scholar.

The supper being now on the table, Mrs. Abigail ate very heartily, for so delicate a person; and while a second course of the same was by her order preparing, she said, "And so, madam, you tell me your house is frequented by people of great quality?"

The landlady answered in the affirmative, saying, "There were a great many very good quality and gentlefolks in it There's young Squire Allworthy, as that gentleman there knows."

now.

"And pray who is this young gentleman of quality, this young Squire Allworthy?" said Abigail.

"Who should he be," answered Partridge, "but the son and heir of the great Squire Allworthy, of Somersetshire."

"Upon my word," said she, "you tell me strange news ;