'I know thou art all goodness,' said the old gentleman, kissing her with the utmost tenderness: 'but something,' continued he, 'methinks, might be spared.'—'Leave it to me, Mr. Goodman,' answered she; 'I know best; they have not deserved it from me.' She then told a long story, how kind she had been to this cousin, and some others of her kindred, in her first husband's time, and gave some instances of the ill use they had made of her bounties. All she said had so much the appearance of truth, that even Miss Betsy, who was far from having a high opinion of her sincerity, believed it, and thought no farther of what had passed; she had, indeed, in a short time, sufficient businesses of her own to take up all her mind.

Mr. Goodman, the very next day, brought home a very agreeable young gentleman to dine with him; who, though he paid an extraordinary respect to Lady Mellasin, and treated her daughter with the utmost complaisance, yet in the compliments he paid to Miss Betsy, there was something which seemed to tell her she had inspired him with a passion more tender than bare respect, and more sincere than common complaisance.

She had very penetrating eyes this way, and never made a conquest without knowing she did so; she was not, therefore, wanting in all those little artifices she had but too much made her study, in order to fix the impression she had given this stranger as indelible as possible: this she had a very good opportunity for doing; he staid the whole afternoon, drank tea with the ladies, and left them not till a crowd of company coming in, he thought good manners obliged him to retire.

Miss Betsy was filled with the most impatient curiosity to know the name and character of this person, whom she had already set down in her mind as a new adorer: she asked Miss Flora, when they were going to bed, as if it were a matter of indifference to her, and merely for the sake of chat, who that gentleman was who had dined with them, and made so long a visit; but that young lady had never seen him before, and was as ignorant of every thing concerning him as herself.

Miss Betsy, however, lost no part of her repose that night, on this account, as she doubted not but she should very soon be informed by himself of all she wished to know: she was but just out of bed the next morning, when a maid-servant came into the chamber and delivered a letter to her, which she told her was brought by a porter, who waited for an answer.

Miss Betsy's heart fluttered at the mention of a letter, flattering herself it came from the person who at present engrossed her thoughts; but on taking it from the maid, found a woman's hand on the superscription, and one perfectly known to her, though at that instant she could not recollect to whom it belonged: she was a good deal surprized, when, on breaking the seal, she found it came from Miss Forward, with whom, as well as the best of the boarding-school ladies, she had ceased all correspondence for many months. The contents were these.

'To Miss Betsy Thoughtless.

Dear Miss Betsy,

Though, since I had the pleasure of seeing or hearing from you, so many accidents and odd turns of fortune have happened to me, as might very well engross my whole attention, yet I cannot be so far forgetful of our former friendship as to be in the same town with you, without letting you know, and desiring to see you. Were there a possibility of my waiting on you, I certainly should have made you the first visit; but, alas! at present there is not. Oh, Miss Betsy! I have strange things to tell you; things fit only to be trusted to a person whose generosity and good-nature I have experienced. If, therefore, you are so good to come, I must intreat you will bring no companion with you, and also that you will allow me that favour the first leisure hour, because I am in some hopes of returning to L——e in a short time. Please to enquire for the house of one Mrs. Nightshade, in Chick Lane, near Smithfield; where you will find her who, in spite of time, absence, and a thousand perplexing circumstances, is, with the most tender regard, my dear Miss Betsy, your very sincere, though unfortunate friend,

A. Forward.

P.S. Be so good to let me know, by a line, whether I may flatter myself with the hopes of seeing you, and at what time.'

Though Miss Betsy, through the hurry of her own affairs, had neglected writing to this young lady for a considerable time, yet she was extremely pleased at hearing from her: she could not imagine, however, what strange turns of fortune they were she mentioned in her letter, and which she supposed had brought her to London. Equally impatient to satisfy her curiosity in this point, as to see a person with whom she had contracted her first friendship, she took pen and paper, and immediately wrote this answer.

'To Miss Forward.

Dear Miss Forward,

The satisfaction of hearing you were so near me would be compleat, were it not allayed by the hints you give, that some accidents, not altogether pleasing, had occasioned it. I long to hear what has happened to you since last we saw each other, and will not fail to wait on you this afternoon. I know nothing of the part of the town you are in, but suppose a hackney coach will be able to find it's way. I will detain your messenger no longer than to tell you that I am, with the most perfect amity, dear Miss Forward, your very affectionate friend, and humble servant,

E. Thoughtless.'

Miss Flora had not been present when the maid delivered the letter to Miss Betsy; but coming into the chamber just as she had finished, and was sealing up the answer to it, 'So,' said she, 'have I catched you? Pray what new lover have you been writing to this morning?' It was in vain that Miss Betsy told her she never had yet seen the man she thought worthy of a letter from her on the score of love: the other persisted in her asseverations; and Miss Betsy, to silence her raillery, was obliged to shew her some part of the letter she had received from Miss Forward.