SHAMELA ANDREWS _to_ HENRIETTA MARIA HONORA ANDREWS.
_Dear Mamma_,
O what News, since I writ my last! the young Squire hath been here,
and as sure as a Gun he hath taken a Fancy to me; _Pamela_, says he,
(for so I am called here) you was a great Favourite of your late
Mistress's; yes, an't please your Honour; says I; and I believe you
deserved it, says he; thank your Honour for your good Opinion, says
I; and then he took me by the Hand, and I pretended to be shy: Laud,
says I, Sir, I hope you don't intend to be rude; no, says he, my
Dear, and then he kissed me, 'till he took away my breath----and I
pretended to be Angry, and to get away, and then he kissed me again,
and breathed very short, and looked very silly; and by Ill-Luck Mrs.
_Jervis_ came in, and had like to have spoiled Sport.----_How
troublesome is such Interruption!_ You shall hear now soon, for I
shall not come away yet, so I rest,
_Your affectionate Daughter_,