I will now pursue my last affecting subject; for the visit is over;
but a sad situation I am in with Mr. B. for all that: but, bad as it
is, I'll try to forget it, till I come to it in course.
At four in the afternoon Mr. B. came in to receive his guests, whom he
expected at five. He came up to me. I had just closed my last letter;
but put it up, and set before me your ladyship's play subjects.
"So, Pamela!--How do you do now?"
Your ladyship may guess, by what I wrote before, that I could not
give any extraordinary account of myself--"As well--as well, Sir, as
possible;" half out of breath.
"You give yourself strange melancholy airs of late, my dear. All that
cheerfulness, which used to delight me whenever I saw you, I am
sorry for it, is quite vanished. You and I must shortly have a little
serious talk together."
"When you please. Sir. I believe it is only being used to this smoky
thick air of London!--I shall be better when you carry me into the
country. I dare say I shall. But I never was in London so long before,
you know, Sir."
"All in good time, Pamela!--But is this the best appearance you choose
to make, to receive such guests?"
"If it displeases you. Sir, I will dress otherwise in a minute."
"You look well in any thing. But I thought you'd have been better
dressed. Yet it would never have less become you; for of late your
eyes have lost that brilliancy that used to strike me with a lustre,
much surpassing that of the finest diamonds."
"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_."