Lays a foundation for many events to be produced by time, and waited for with patience

Miss Betsy and Miss Flora, on their coming home, were in some perplexity how to relate the story of their Oxford adventure to Lady Mellasin and Mr. Goodman; and it is very likely they would have thought it proper to have kept it a secret, if the unlucky duel between Mr. Francis and the gentleman-commoner, which they were sensible would be a known thing, had not rendered the concealment of the whole utterly impracticable.

As there was no remedy, Miss Flora took it upon her to lay open the matter to her mamma; which she did with so much artifice, that if that lady had been as austere, as she was really the reverse, she could not have found much to condemn, either in the conduct of her daughter or Miss Betsy: as to Mr. Goodman, he left the whole management of the young ladies, in these particulars, entirely to his wife, so said little to them on the score of the adventure; but was extremely concerned for the part Mr. Francis had in it, as he supposed it was chiefly owing to that unlucky incident, that he had taken a resolution to leave the college; and he very well knew, that a certain nobleman, who was a distant relation of his family, and godfather to Mr. Francis, had always promised to bestow a large benefice in his gift upon him, as soon as he should have compleated his studies.

This honest guardian thought he should be wanting in the duty of the trust reposed in him, to suffer his charge to throw away that fine prospect in his view, if by any means he could prevent him from taking so rash and inconsiderate a step; and as to his being expelled, he doubted not, but between him and Sir Ralph, interest might be made to the heads of the university, to get the affair of the duel passed over. The greatest difficulty he had to apprehend, in compassing this point, was from the young gentleman himself, who he had observed was of a temper somewhat obstinate, and tenacious of his own opinion; resolving, however, to try all means possible, he wrote immediately to him, representing to him, in the strongest and most pathetick terms he was master of, the vast advantages the clergy enjoyed, the respect they had from all degrees of people; and endeavoured to convince him that there was no avocation whatever, by which a younger brother might so easily advance his fortune, and do honour to his family.

He also sent a letter to Sir Ralph Trusty, acquainting him with the whole story, and earnestly requesting that he would write to Mr. Francis, and omit nothing that might engage him to desist from doing a thing so contrary to his interest, and the intention of his deceased father, as what he now had thoughts of doing was manifestly so. These efforts, by both the guardians, were often repeated, but without the least success; the young gentleman found arguments to oppose against theirs, which neither of them could deny to have weight, particularly that of his having no call to take upon him holy orders. During these debates, in which Miss Betsy gave herself no manner of concern, she received a letter from her brother, containing these lines.

'To Miss Betsy Thoughtless.

My dear sister,

Though I flatter myself all my letters afford you some sort of satisfaction, yet by what little judgment I have been able to form of the temper of your sex, have reason to believe, this I now send will meet a double portion of welcome from you. It brings a confirmation of your beauty's power; the intelligence of a new conquest; the offer of a heart, which, if you will trust a brother's recommendation, is well deserving your acceptance: but, that I may not seem to speak in riddles, you may remember that the first time I had the pleasure of entertaining you at my rooms, a gentleman called Trueworth was with us, and that the next day when you dined with that person, who afterwards treated you with such unbecoming liberties, he made one of the company; since then you could not see him, as he was obliged to go to his seat, which is about thirty miles off, on an extraordinary occasion, and returned not till the day after you left this town. He seemed more than ordinarily affected on my telling him what had happened on your account; and, after pausing a little, "How unhappy was I," said he, "to be absent! had I been here there would have been no need for the brother of Miss Betsy to have exposed his life to the sword of an injurious antagonist, or his character to the censure of the university. I would have taken upon myself to have revenged the quarrel of that amiable lady, and either have severely chastised the insolence of the aggressor, or lost the best part of my blood in the attempt!" I was very much surprized at these words, as well as the emphasis with which they were delivered; but, recovering myself as soon as I could, "We are extremely obliged to you, Sir," said I; "but I know not if such a mistaken generosity might not have been fatal to the reputation of us both. What would the world have said of me to have been tamely passive, and suffer another to revenge the affront offered to my sister? What would they have thought of her, on finding her honour vindicated by one who had no concern in it?"—"No concern!" cried he, with the utmost eagerness; "yes, I have a concern, more deep, more strong, than that of father, brother, or all the ties of blood could give; and that you had before now have been convinced of it, had I not been so suddenly and so unfortunately called hence."

Perceiving I looked very much confounded, as well I might, "Ah, Frank!" cried he, "I love your charming sister; my friends have, for these six months past, been teazing me to think of marriage, and several proposals have been made to me on that score; but never till I saw the amiable Miss Betsy, did I behold the face for whom I would exchange my liberty: in fine, 'tis she, and only she, can make me blest; and I returned to Oxford full of the hopes of an opportunity to lay my heart, my person, and my fortune, at her feet."

It would require a volume, instead of a letter, to repeat half the tender and passionate expressions he uttered in your favour. What I have already said is enough to give you a specimen of the rest. I shall only add, that being impatient to begin the attack he is determined to make upon your heart, he is preparing to follow you to London with all possible expedition. I once had thoughts of accompanying him, but have since thought it proper to have Sir Ralph Trusty's advice in something I have a mind to do, and for that purpose shall take a journey into L——e, as soon as I receive remittances from Mr. Goodman, to pay off some trifling debts I have contracted here, and defray my travelling expences; so that if things happen as I wish they may, my friend's passion will have made a considerable progress before I see you.

Indeed, my dear sister, if you have not already seen a man whose person you like better, you can never have an offer that promises more felicity: he left the college soon after I came into it, beloved and respected by all that knew him, for his discreet behaviour, humanity, and affability; he went afterwards on his travels, and brought home with him all the accomplishments of the several countries he had been in, without being the least tainted with the vices or fopperies of any of them; he has a much larger estate than your fortune could expect, unincumbered with debts, mortgages, or poor relations; his family is ancient, and, by the mother's side, honourable; but, above all, he has sense, honour, and good-nature—rare qualities, which, in my opinion, cannot fail of making him an excellent husband, whenever he comes to be such.

But I shall leave him to plead his own cause, and you to follow your own inclinations. I am, with the most unfeigned good wishes, my dear sister, your affectionate brother, and humble servant,

F. Thoughtless.

P.S. Mr. Trueworth knows nothing of my writing to you in his behalf; so you are at liberty to receive him as you shall think proper.'

Miss Betsy required no less a cordial than this to revive her spirits, pretty much depressed since her ill usage at Oxford.

She had not time, however, to indulge the pleasure of reflecting on this new triumph, on her first receiving the news of it. Lady Mellasin had set that evening apart to make a grand visit to a person of her acquaintance, who was just married; the young ladies were to accompany her, and Miss Betsy was in the midst of the hurry of dressing when the post brought the letter, so she only looked it carelessly over, and locked it in her cabinet till she should have more leisure for the examination. They were all ready; the coach with the best hammer-cloth and harnesses was at the door, and only waited while Mrs. Prinks was drawing on her lady's gloves, which happened to be a little too tight.

In this unlucky instant one of the footmen came running into the parlour, and told Lady Mellasin that there was a very ill-looking woman at the door, who enquired for her ladyship, and that she must needs speak with her, and that she had a letter to deliver, which she would give into nobody's hand but her own. Lady Mellasin seemed a little angry at the insolence and folly of the creature, as she then termed it; but ordered she should be shewed into the back-parlour: they were not above five minutes together before the woman went away, and Lady Mellasin returned to the room where Miss Betsy and Miss Flora were waiting for her. A confusion not to be described sat on every feature in her face; she looked pale, she trembled; and having told the young ladies something had happened which prevented her going where she intended, flew up into her dressing-room, followed by Mrs. Prinks, who appeared very much alarmed at seeing her ladyship in this disorder.

Miss Betsy and Miss Flora were also surprized; and doubtless had their own conjectures upon this sudden turn. It is not likely, however, that either of them, especially Miss Betsy, could hit upon the right: but, whatever their thoughts were, they communicated them not to each other, and seemed only intent on considering in what manner they should dispose of themselves that evening, it not being proper they should make the visit above-mentioned without her ladyship. As they were discoursing on this head, Mrs. Prinks came down; and, having ordered the coach to be put up, and sent a footman to call a hack, ran up stairs again in a great hurry to her lady.

In less time than could almost be imagined, they both came down: Lady Mellasin had pulled off her rich apparel, and mobbed herself up in a cloak and hood, that little of her face, and nothing of her air, could be distinguished; the two young ladies stared, and were confounded at the metamorphosis. 'Is your ladyship going out in that dress?' cried Miss Flora; but Miss Betsy said nothing. 'Aye, child,' replied the lady, somewhat faltering in her speech, 'a poor relation, who they say is dying, has sent to beg to see me.' She said no more, the hackney-coach was come, her ladyship and Mrs. Prinks stepped hastily into it; the latter, in doing so, telling the coachman in so low a voice as nobody but himself could hear, to what place he was to drive.

After they were gone, Miss Flora proposed walking in the Park; but Miss Betsy did not happen to be in a humour to go either there or any where else at that time; on which the other told her she had got the spleen: 'But,' said she, 'I am resolved not to be infected with it, so you must not take it ill, if I leave you alone for a few hours; for I should think it a sin against common sense to sit moping at home without shewing myself to any one soul in the world, after having taken all this pains in dressing.' Miss Betsy assured her, as she might do with a great deal of sincerity, that she should not at all be displeased to be entirely free from any company whatsoever, for the whole evening; and to prove the truth of what she said, gave orders that instant to be denied to whoever should come to visit her. 'Well,' cried Miss Flora, laughing, 'I shall give your compliments, however, where I am going;' and then mentioned the names of some persons she had just then taken into her head to visit. 'As you please for that,' replied Miss Betsy, with the same gay air; 'but don't tell them it is because I am eaten up with the vapours, that I chuse to stay at home rather than carry my compliments in person; for if ever I find out,' continued she, 'that you are so mischievous, I shall contrive some way or other to be revenged on you.'

They talked to each other in this pleasant manner, till a chair Miss Flora had sent for was brought into the hall, in which she seated herself for her intended ramble, and Miss Betsy went into her chamber, where how she was amused will presently be shewn.