"I am sorry for it, Sir. But as I never could pride myself in deserving such a kind of compliment, I should be too happy, forgive me, my dearest Mr. B., if the failure be not rather in your eyes, than in mine."
He looked at me steadfastly. "I fear, Pamela—But don't be a fool."
"You are angry with me. Sir?"
"No, not I."
"Would you have me dress better?"
"No, not I. If your eyes looked a little more brilliant, you want no addition." Down he went.
Strange short speeches, these, my lady, to what you have heard from his dear mouth!—"Yet they shall not rob me of the merit of a patient sufferer, I am resolved," thought I.
Now, my lady, as I doubted not my rival would come adorned with every outward ornament, I put on only a white damask gown, having no desire to vie with her in appearance; for a virtuous and honest heart is my glory, I bless God! I wish the countess had the same to boast of!
About five, their ladyships came in the countess's new chariot: for she has not been long out of her transitory mourning, and dressed as rich as jewels, and a profusion of expense, could make her.
I saw them from the window alight. O how my heart throbbed!—"Lie still," said I, "busy thing! why all this emotion?—Those shining ornaments cover not such a guileless flatterer as thou. Why then all this emotion?"