find your account in it.

I trembled to find my poor heart giving way.--O good sir, said I, spare a
poor girl that cannot look up to you, and speak. My heart is full; and
why should you wish to undo me?--Only oblige me, said he, to stay a
fortnight longer, and John shall carry word to your father, that I will
see him in the time, either here, or at the Swan in his village. O sir,
said I, my heart will burst; but, on my bended knees, I beg you to let me
go to-morrow, as I designed: and don't offer to tempt a poor creature,
whose whole will would be to do yours, if my virtue would permit!--I
shall permit it, said he; for I intend no injury to you, God is my
witness! Impossible! said I; I cannot, sir, believe you, after what has
passed: How many ways are there to undo poor creatures! Good God,
protect me this one time, and send me but to my dear father's cot in
safety!--Strange, d----d fate! said he, that when I speak so solemnly, I
can't be believed!--What should I believe, sir? said I, what can I
believe? What have you said, but that I am to stay a fortnight longer?
and what then is to become of me?--My pride of birth and fortune (d--n
them both! said he, since they cannot obtain credit with you, but must
add to your suspicions) will not let me descend all at once; and I ask
you but a fortnight's stay, that, after this declaration, I may pacify
those proud demands upon me.

O how my heart throbbed! and I began (for I did not know what I did) to
say the Lord's prayer. None of your beads to me Pamela! said he; thou
art a perfect nun, I think.

But I said aloud, with my eyes lifted up to heaven, Lead me not into
temptation: but deliver me from evil, O my good God! He hugged me in his
arms, and said, Well, my dear girl, then you stay this fortnight, and you