"Ladies,--I am informed that you have some intention of bringing two young ladies to town, whom I have some knowledge of, under the character of companions. As I would neither have simplicity imposed upon nor virtue contaminated, I must offer it as my opinion that the impropriety of such a step will be attended with dangerous consequences. Take therefore, the admonition of a friend, and seriously reflect on the consequences of introducing infamy and vice into retreats where peace and innocence have hitherto resided."
Our doubts were now at an end. It appeared to me one of the vilest instances of unprovoked ingratitude I had ever met with. As we set ruminating upon schemes of vengeance, Mr. Burchell himself entered and sat down.
"Do you know this, sir--this pocket-book?" said I.
"Yes, sir," returned he, with a face of impenetrable assurance.
"And do you know this letter?"
"Yes; it was I that wrote that letter."
"And how could you so basely presume to write this letter?"
"And how came you," replied he, with looks of unparalleled effrontery, "so basely to presume to open this letter?"
I could scarcely govern my passion. "Ungrateful wretch!" I cried. "Begone, and no longer pollute my dwelling with thy baseness!"
So saying, I threw him his pocket-book, which he took up with a smile, and left us astonished at the serenity of his assurance.