"No, Sir, let me stand, if you please, while I can stand; when weary I will sit down at my bar.
"Now, Sir, since you are so good as to say, you have nothing but change of temper to accuse me of, I am to answer to that, and assign a cause; and I will do it without evasion or reserve; but I beseech you say not one word but Yes or No, to my questions, till I have said all I have to say, and then you shall find me all silence and resignation."
"Well, my strange dear!—But sure your head is a little turned!—What is your question?"
"Whether, Sir, the Nun—I speak boldly; the cause requires it—who followed you at the Masquerade every where, is not the Countess of—?"
"What then, my dear:" (speaking with quickness,)—"I thought the occasion of your sullenness and reserve was this!—But, Pamela—"
"Nay, Sir," interrupted I, "only Yes, or No, if you please: I will be all silence by-and-by."
"Yes, then."—"Well, Sir, then let me tell you, for I ask you not (it may be too bold in me to multiply questions,) that she loves you; that you correspond by letters with her—Yes, Sir, before that letter from her ladyship came, which you received from my hand in so short and angry a manner, for fear of my curiosity to see its contents, which would have been inexcusable in me, I own, if I had. You have talked over to her all your polygamy notions, and she seems so well convinced of them, as to declare to her noble uncle (who expostulated with her on the occasions she gave for talk,) that she had rather be a certain gentleman's second wife, than the first to the greatest man in England: and you are but just returned from a journey to Tunbridge, in which that lady was a party; and the motive for it, I am acquainted with, by this letter."
He was displeased, and frowned: I looked down, being resolved not to be terrified, if I could help it.
"I have cautioned you, Pamela——"
"I know you have, Sir," interrupted I; "but be pleased to answer me.
Has not the Countess taken a house or lodgings at Tunbridge?"