You say well, my dear child, says she; and you have a justness of thought
above your years; and for all these considerations, and for what I have
heard this day, after you ran away, (and I am glad you went as you did,)
I cannot persuade you to stay; and I shall be glad, (which is what I
never thought I could have said,) that you were well at your father's;
for if Lady Davers will entertain you, she may as well have you from
thence as here. There's my good Mrs. Jervis! said I; God will bless you
for your good counsel to a poor maiden, that is hard beset. But pray
what did he say, when I was gone? Why, says she, he was very angry with
you. But he would hear it! said I: I think it was a little bold; but
then he provoked me to it. And had not my honesty been in the case, I
would not by any means have been so saucy. Besides, Mrs. Jervis,
consider it was the truth; if he does not love to hear of the summer-
house, and the dressing-room, why should he not be ashamed to continue in
the same mind? But, said she, when you had muttered this to yourself,
you might have told him any thing else. Well, said I, I cannot tell a
wilful lie, and so there's an end of it. But I find you now give him up,
and think there's danger in staying.--Lord bless me! I wish I was well
out of the house; so it was at the bottom of a wet ditch, on the wildest
common in England.

Why, said she, it signifies nothing to tell you all he said but it was
enough to make me fear you would not be so safe as I could wish; and,
upon my word, Pamela, I don't wonder he loves you; for, without flattery,
you are a charming girl! and I never saw you look more lovely in your
life than in that same new dress of yours. And then it was such a
surprise upon us all!--I believe truly, you owe some of your danger to
the lovely appearance you made. Then, said I, I wish the clothes in the
fire: I expected no effect from them; but, if any, a quite contrary one.