By following the cautious directions of Albert, Madeline escaped from
the nunnery undiscovered, and, accompanied by her lover, lost, in the
happiness of the present moment, all remembrance of the trials she had
sustained, and all apprehensions of what she might encounter in future.
Edwin, from a principle of honour, did not inform his friends, De
Willows, De Clavering and Camelford, of his intention; the only tax he
levied on their friendship was to borrow a small sum of money of them to
supply present exigencies, and procure such accommodations on the road
as would be most agreeable and convenient to his fair companion.
About midnight he led the trembling agitated maid, unattended by any
one but himself, to the entrance of the subterranean passage. With
difficulty and danger they made their way through this scene of
desolation and terror. Having opened the door which led them through the
same gloomy paths Edwin had formerly traced, they narrowly escaped being
discovered by the centinels who guarded Mettingham-Castle.--Alarmed at
their danger, they made not a moment's delay, but hurried on till they
came to a retired and almost unfrequented road, where they found a man
and horses waiting their arrival. These horses had been hired of a
countryman, who agreed to send for them the next morning to a
neighbouring town.
Though money was undoubtedly very scarce in the age in which the
characters lived that furnished us with these memoirs, yet the
necessaries of life were all so cheap, and the people in general so
extremely hospitable, that it required but a moderate sum to procure
accommodations for a journey to the most distant part of the kingdom,
and, as there was then no marriage-act in force, the road to the temple
of Hymen was more frequented, because it was neither found so difficult
nor so thorny as it has been to too many of the present age.
As to the vulgar and old-fashioned habits of eating and drinking, they
are matters in general but little thought of in expeditions under the
directions of a god who is too sublime to be satisfied with common food.
Our lovers felt so little inconvenience from either hunger or thirst,
that they determined to make no delays on their journey, but such as
were absolutely necessary. They were epicures only in love, and, till
they arrived in London, were perfectly satisfied with such repasts as
were to be procured from any of the humble cottages on the road, by
which prudent precaution they escaped undiscovered, notwithstanding the
clamour their elopement had occasioned.
The morning after their arrival in London, a priest joined their hands
in marriage, and rendered indissoluble those tender ties which had long
united their hearts in love's most pleasing fetters. Too happy for
reflection to interrupt their nuptial joys, too inexperienced to look
forward to the consequences of an union thus inauspiciously commenced,
and too sanguine to think the fond delusions of love could end but with
life, they lived for many days in what might be called the delirium of
the senses: in each other they saw and possessed all that constituted
their ideas of pleasure. Madeline was the wife of the enamoured Edwin,
and he was blest.--Edwin was become the husband and protector of
Madeline, what then could she have to fear, for Edwin was the world
to her?
Alas! what a pity that so few, so scarce, and so short, are the hours of
mortal happiness! and that the fallacious foundation on which we rest
such innumerable pleasing hopes, which present to our deluded
imaginations the most lovely and inviting prospects, should so soon fall
to the ground, and humble our air-built expectations in the dust!
As long as their little fund of worldly wealth held out, our new married
lovers never recollected it must come to an end, or bestowed a thought
on what steps were to be taken to secure the continuance of that
felicity they had gone such daring lengths to obtain; but an empty purse
soon compelled them to recollect, that two people, however tender their
attachment, or superlative their abilities,--however lovely their
persons, or captivating their manners, require more substantial food
than the god of love will condescend to furnish them with.
Accustomed to affluence, and not knowing what it was to be deprived even
of the luxuries of life, they shuddered at the poverty which stared them
in the face, and threatened them with absolute starvation: they blushed
too at their own inability to procure for themselves the common
necessaries of life, and felt some very uncomfortable sensations at
being in a stranger's house without the means of paying for their
lodging or accommodations. To declare their poverty they were ashamed,
and to make themselves and situation known was to run the risk of being
separated for ever, as Edwin had no doubt but Madeline would be torn
from him, and compelled to a monastic life, if discovered before his
friends were reconciled, and would use their interest to procure his
pardon.
Luckily, Madeline, amidst her new born fears, recollected it would be no
difficult matter to find so great a man as Baron Fitzosbourne, and
accordingly Edwin, wrapped up and disguised as much as possible, sat off
to find his residence, and to obtain an interview with his two friends,
Walter and Albert. He fortunately found the latter at home, and in a few
hours was by him secretly admitted to Walter, who flew to embrace and
welcome him to his father's mansion, making a number of tender inquiries
after Roseline and the rest of his friends at the castle. He was both
shocked and astonished when informed of Edwin's distressed and perilous
situation, gently reproached him for not applying to him before, and for
not haven given him the slightest information of his intention before he
married.
Edwin mad the best excuses he could for his reserve. Vague and
unsubstantial as they were, the generous Walter was soon reconciled to
his friend, put his purse into his hand, and insisted upon being
immediately introduced to his lovely bride. They returned with Edwin to
his lodgings, and found Madeline in a state of the most painful and
restless suspense, which their presence instantly dispersed. After the
compliments and congratulations were over, they sat down to consider
seriously what could be done, and what steps were most proper to be
taken to secure the persons of the new-married couple. Albert strenously
advised them not to attempt seeing the Baron in their present situation,
but to wait patiently till some plan could be adopted for their farther
safety. Walter promised in the mean time to supply them with money for
all necessary expences.
The meeting of these friends was cordial and tender, and more cheerful
than could have been supposed. Walter repeatedly protested,
notwithstanding the difficulty and dangers with which they were
surrounded, that he envied more than he pitied them,--complained of his
own situation, as being more distressing and uncomfortable than their's,
and declared himself unable to support a much longer separation from
Roseline, without the deprivation of reason being added to that of all
his other enjoyments.
On refection, it was thought better that Walter should make the
situation of the young couple known to the Baron without farther delay:
this he readily undertook; for, as the danger was great, rewards having
been offered for the person of Madeline, procrastination would have only
served to increase the difficulties they had to encounter.
Walter succeeded in his embassy beyond his hopes, and soon prevailed
upon his father to comply with a plan they had thought of for the better
security of Madeline; namely, retiring secretly for the present to the
environs of one of the Baron's castles, at a great distance from the
metropolis, and concealing their real names and persons under the habits
of peasants. To this scheme the Baron readily agreed, and promised not
only to exert his utmost interest to procure a pardon for them both, but
instantly to write to Sir Philip and Lady de Morney to inform them of
their safety and situation, and intercede on their behalf. He likewise
called upon them the following day, presented them with a supply of cash
for present exitgencies, and sent them in one of his own carriages to
the place of their concealment, where we will for a short time leave
them, only observing they were as happy as our first parents before
their fall: they sometimes indeed recollected the danger of being
discovered, and trembled at the thought; but so much did they depend on
the friendship and power of the Baron to protect them, should the
dreadful misfortune ever befall them, that they determined not to let
uncertain apprehensions of what might happen in future prevent their
enjoying that portion of happiness which was now in their power, and the
author would wish every one who peruses these pages to adopt and
encourage the same useful philosophy.
Walter, from the time of his arrival in London, till a few days previous
to his seeing Edwin, had been restless and uncomfortable. The first
master of the age had been procured to instruct him. He was presented to
his sovereign, and his introduction was attended with the most marked
and distinguished honours.
Many fair ladies in the higher circles were lavish of their smiles, and
many parents would gladly have seen him added to the train of their
daughters' admirers, and, to lure him to their purpose, solicited his
friendship, and sent him repeated invitations to their houses.
Pleasure courted him in a thousand varying forms, but he beheld her most
seducing blandishments with disgust and stoical indifference. Neither
the novelty of the scenes with which he was surrounded, the flattering
attentions of beauty, or the variety of amusements, of which he was in a
manner compelled to partake, could for one moment detach his mind from
the fascinating Roseline. With her dwelt every wish,--on her unshaken
tenderness rested his every hope of permanent felicity; and, to have
heard the sound of her enchanting voice, he would voluntarily have
bidden adieu to London, and all its pleasures.--If he attended to the
instructions of his masters, he was actuated by the same motives, and he
wished to be as wise as Plato, that he might be more worthy to possess a
treasure he estimated beyond the wealth of worlds.--Noble young
man!--would love operate on all youthful minds as it did on thine, it
would be entitled to universal praise, and might justly be called the
guardian-friend of innocence, the patron of every virtue.
At length, both the Baron and Albert were not only surprised, but
alarmed at the visible alteration they observed in Walter, who often
absented himself, and when questioned where he had been, and how he had
been amusing himself, hesitated in his answers, and appeared at a loss
what to say.
One evening the Baron particularly requested he would accompany him to
some public place; but he pleaded a prior engagement, and, on being
asked the nature of it, gave so trifling and unsatisfactory an answer,
that the Baron was seriously displeased, and left the room, telling him
he did not like to be treated with reserve, recommended him to recollect
how much he had already been made a dupe to mysterious transactions, and
not to forget that he had likewise been nearly a victim to artifice
before he knew guile in his own heart or person.
As soon as he left the room, Albert approached his beloved master, and,
with a tear trembling in each eye, told him he was to blame, and begged
he would follow his father, and do away his displeasure, by going as he
requested.
"My dear fellow, (cried Walter,) my father's anger I could bear unmoved,
because I do not feel myself deserving of it, but your gentle reproof
has in a moment found its way to my heart. Perhaps I may be to blame,
but surely, Albert, it is a little hard upon me to be compelled to stay
in this place without being sometimes allowed to amuse myself according
to my own inclination!"
"What on earth (said Albert, with a sigh,) can on a sudden have made
this change in you, who so lately had an invincible objection to going
among strangers, lest you should fall into the snares that are so
frequently spread to entangle the unwary!--I thought----"
"Allons, my dear fellow, (replied the impatient Walter,) don't just now
attempt to think;--you are a good creature:--but I can stay no longer
listen to you; I will hear you as early as you please in the morning.
Would to God my sweet Roseline had accompanied her brother to London!"
"Would to heaven she had! (sighed Albert:) Here is something wrong going
forwards. I must be on my guard how I proceed, or my young master will
be drawn into some scrape that may lead to mischief, while the fair maid
of the castle may be left to wear the willow.--Now, or never, must be
the moment of action.--A thought has struck me;--it must be so."
Away went Albert, and I hope none of my readers will have any objection
to accompany him in his friendly expedition.
He instantly hurried out of the house, attended by a stout and faithful
servant.--They were so quick in their proceedings, that they very soon
perceived the object of their pursuit walking before them. After
following him through many streets, they saw him stop at a very
good-looking house, the door of which was opened by a servant in a rich
livery. Albert hesitated for a moment what to do:--to follow him would
have been both daring and imprudent, and, instead of setting matters to
rights, might have brought on greater difficulties; he therefore stepped
into a jeweller's shop nearly opposite the house into which the young
Fitzosbourne had entered, desiring his servant to keep a watchful eye.
He spent a few shillings, and then carelessly inquired of the shopkeeper
who it was inhabited the handsome house in which he saw so many lights.
The man smiled, looked at him very earnestly, and then replied, "If I
did not think you were a stranger, sir, I should have supposed you were
joking with me, by asking that question, for I thought all the world had
known the Jezebel who lives there."
"You have raised my curiosity to a higher pitch,(said Albert.) I have so
long been absent from this city, that I know but little of what has been
doing in it, and would thank you to answer my question with sincerity,
while I am looking over the things I want to purchase."
"No man (replied the complaisant shopkeeper) is happier to please his
customers than I am, or more grateful for favours received; but, as one
person's money is as good as another's, and as I take a pretty round sum
every year from the fair inhabitants of that house, I have no business
to be telling of their frailties: however, if I can oblige you, sir, and
you will promise me to be secret, and not bring my name in question."----
Albert now became more and more eager to obtain the wished-for
intelligence, and not only promised all that he had requested, but to
reward him for his trouble, by recommending his shop to some friends who
had it greatly in their power to serve him. This at once put an end to
the honest jeweller's reserve; for, though he would not voluntarily have
told a scandalous tale of any one, yet he saw no objection to speaking
the truth when he could serve himself by so doing.
"Please your honour, (he began, for he took it into his head at that
moment that Albert was a great man,) in that house lives the noted Mrs.
C----, who keeps so many fine young women, that all the fine young men
of the age are fond of obtaining admittance, though for that indulgence
they often sacrifice health, fortune, and even life itself. Ah! God
knows, I have seen sad doings, and many a one have I wished might escape
the plans laid for their destruction; but, if the devil himself were
to fall into her clutches, I think he would be puzzled to effect
his escape."
"Has she many visitors just now?" interrupted Albert.
"As to their number, that is impossible for me to ascertain; but of this
I am positive, she is never without some, and at this very time I think
there is something extraordinary going on, for one of her nymphs came
this morning to purchase a wedding-ring, and, on my joking her a little
on the subject, she said it was not for herself but Miss C----,
daughter to the old hag, who is a very lovely girl, and well known upon
the town. On my expressing myself happy to hear she was going to marry,
and become an honest woman, the girl burst into a violent fit of
laughter, and called me a puritanical hypocrite."
"Let Catharine once become a wife, (said she,) and then we shall see who
will dare to call her virtue in question. She will, I hope, before
to-morrow night be married to the only son of one of the wealthiest
barons in the kingdom,--a young nobleman who knows so little of the
world, that it is absolutely necessary he should have a wife who can
instruct him, and I know no one better able to undertake the task than
the daughter of Mrs. C----."
Albert with difficulty concealed his agitation at hearing this alarming
tale. Recovering himself, however, he inquired of his informer if he
recollected the name of the young gentleman.--After a moment's
hesitation, the jeweller replied, "the name was twice repeated, but it
ran so glibly off the lady's tongue, that I have since forgotten it."
"Should you know it again?" asked Albert; who, on the jeweller's
answering that he thought he should, mentioned several, to all of which
a negative was given. At length Fitzosbourne was introduced.--"The very
person, (cried the jeweler;)--the Baron has but one son; and him, as
this girl told me, he has but lately found: but he is such an ideot, and
so easily imposed on, that, upon my soul, were I his father, I should
think him better lost than found."
The jeweller might have gone on with his observations as long as he
pleased, had not his distressed auditor recollected the danger in which,
perhaps, his beloved young master was at that moment involved. He
started up, and, catching hold of his companion's hand, told him, he
must that moment go with him. The man drew back: Albert perceived the
folly of his abruptness, and, making some apologies, informed the
astonished jeweller, that the business on which he was going would admit
of no delay,--that if he would accompany him, lend his assistance, and
procure two or three spirited young men to be of the party, he should be
well rewarded for his trouble, and would have reason to bless the day
chance directed him to his shop.
This promise was a sufficient temptation to a tradesman who had a large
family, little money, and few friends. He summoned some of his men from
an adjoining workshop, and, thus attended, Albert sallied into the
street. His servant, who was in waiting, informed his master a priest
had been just admitted into the house he was watching, and that he had
seen the young lord at the window with a beautiful woman hanging on his
arm, who appeared to be in tears.
This intelligence made them hurry on.--Albert rapped at the door,
requesting the others to keep out of sight till he was secure of
obtaining admittance. A servant soon appeared; Albert inquired if his
mistress were at home. The fellow replied that his lady was then
particularly engaged, and could not be spoken to, adding, he might call
again in the morning.
"The morning will not do, my friend; I must see your mistress this
evening, (said Albert;) my business is quite as particular, I believe,
as that in which she may be engaged, therefore make way, and let me
come in."
The fellow attempted to shut the door, but the posse in waiting, on
being beckened by Albert, came to his assistance, and they all rushed
into the house. Albert, the jeweller, and the rest of the party, except
one, who was left to guard the fellow at the door, went as gently as
possible up a spacious staircase. They heard voices at a distance, and
were directed by the sound to a door of the apartment which contained
the party, who appeared to be engaged in a warm dispute.
At times they could distinguish female voices, and very soon Albert
heard that of his beloved master exalted to its highest pitch. This at
once determined him to open the door, but he found it fastened within
side: he then loudly demanded admittance; a female scream was all the
answer he received. Again he called: some one then asked what he wanted,
adding, whoever it was that intruded on them so rudely must wait till
another opportunity.
"Wait no longer, (cried Walter,) but force the door; I know not but my
life may be endangered."
The door was instantly burst open. What a scene presented itself!
Walter, with a face pale as ashes, and apparently in the utmost
confusion, was endeavouring to disengage himself from the embraces of a
young woman, who had fallen at his feet, and clasped her arms around
him. The priest held a prayer-book in his hand, which was opened at the
matrimonial service.--A fierce looking man in a naval uniform, the old
procuress, and another of her nymphs completed the group.
The instant Walter saw his friend enter the apartment, by a desperate
effort he disengaged himself from the syren who had held him captive,
flew to Albert, and brandishing his sword, called upon the wretch who
had endeavoured to inveigle him into a forced marriage to draw, and
receive the reward of his treachery; but Albert ordered the culprit to
be secured, and requested Walter not to stain the purity of his sword
with the blood of such a villain.--During this contest, the women and
the priest sneaked out of the room unobserved, and, though the strictest
search was made throughout the house, not a creature could be found in
it that belonged to the family, but the servant who admitted them, and
who had been prevented following the rest by the person left to guard him.
Albert insisted, before he left the house, on sending for proper
officers to take the prisoners into custody; but Walter, who wished this
affair to be kept as secret as possible, entreated, with so much
earnestness, on the villain's making a promise of amendment, and leaving
the kingdom, to have him liberated, that his friend, after a little
hesitation, complied, on condition that the two fellows should be left
bound in different apartments till the vile mistress of the house, or
some of her associates, should venture to return.
The honest jeweller was entreated to be secret, and promised an ample
recompense. His people were liberally paid, and Albert, with an exulting
heart, attended home his agitated friend, who, after recovering his
spirits in some degree, gave him the following account of the
circumstances which had drawn him into a situation that might have been
as fatal to his peace as they would have been disgraceful to his
character, had not his guardian-friend arrived in time to prevent the
threatened danger, the whole of which he was now convinced had been
planned for the purpose of drawing him into marriage, resting their
hopes of success on his ignorance of the world.
"I take shame to myself, dear Albert, (said the grateful Walter,) for
not informing you this evening of my engagement, which you, who know the
strength of my attachment to the charming Roseline, will not suppose was
meant to be of the nature it proved. I knew not that the worthless
woman, whose daughter it has been my ill luck frequently to meet at
several public places, was of so despicable a character.--Chance, or, as
I now suspect, design, has likewise frequently thrown her in my way in
my morning rambles: but what induced me to visit at her mother's house,
was the having found her one evening in the passage of the play-house,
waiting the arrival of her carriage, in the greatest distress; and what
served to add to it was the behaviour of two or three young men, who
said some very rude things to her in my hearing, for which I chastised
them with my cane, and the frightened fair one fainted in my arms as
soon as I had driven them away. I supposed they had been led to insult
her by having made too free with the bottle; but they doubtless knew her
well enough to discover her designs against me.
"When she recovered from the fit into which I imagined they had
terrified her, I could do no less than see her home; and, when I called
the next morning, I was introduced to her mother, whose unbounded
gratitude and flattering acknowledgments, for the trifling service I had
rendered her sweet and amiable daughter, overwhelmed me with confusion,
and convinced her I was a fool exactly suited to her purpose.
Being always received with the utmost politeness, and seeing nothing in
the conduct or behaviour of either mother or daughter to excite
suspicion, I continued to call upon them whenever I chanced to pass that
way, and was in the humour to wish for conversation. They boasted of
being of an ancient family in the North of England, appeared to live in
credit and affluence, treated me with the utmost hospitality, and
pressed me so warmly to make them frequent visits, that I promised to
comply with their request, because I supposed by so doing I was removing
a weight of obligation from their minds which seemed to give them pain.
Once or twice it happened when I called, that the young lady had walked
out, and the mother said a good deal about the mortification it would be
to her to be told at her return I had called upon them in her absence;
but this, till about two hours ago, I considered as being the effusions
of gratitude.
"And how (inquired Albert) were you at length undeceived?"
"By her mother," continued Walter, who, after some little hesitation,
with an appeal to my honour and humanity, to excuse the weakness of a
fond parent, informed me of the passion I unfortunately, and as she
feared undesignedly, had inspired in the bosom of her daughter, a
passion she much doubted she would never be able to subdue, adding,
that, just before my arrival, she had by mere force compelled her to
walk out for air, as she saw with heart-felt distress the ravages
despair had made in the constitution of her inestimable child.
I lamented the consequences of my intro-troduction, and added, I would
no more venture into a family whose peace I had disturbed, acknowledged
a prior engagement, and was about to quit the house, when the old lady
entreated me earnestly not to adopt a measure so cruel and unjust: I
therefore promised to call again; and, receiving an invitation for this
evening, accepted it, but did not suppose them the kind of people they
have proved.
"Had you no suspicion of their character?" asked Albert.
"None, by heaven! (replied Walter.)--I never saw the least appearance of
indecency, or even levity, and heard no conversation that would have
offended the nice ear of a Roseline de Morney."
"The scheme was deeply laid, (said Albert.)--Pray proceed; I am
impatient to know how you were received this evening."
"First by the mother, (continued Walter, who appeared in the greatest
distress.--On my inquiring the cause, she said she had informed
Catharine of what had passed between us; that, on being told I was
engaged, she fainted several times, and, before she recovered, her
nephew, who was just returned from abroad, called at the house. This
young man, she said, had been long passionately attached to her; that on
seeing the situation of his cousin, he was necessarily informed of the
cause,--was now with her, and had so earnestly entreated to have the
honour of being introduced to me, that she could not find resolution to
deny his request.--
"I will confess to you, my dear Albert, I now began to suspect some
design was formed against me; but of what nature I was still at a loss
to conjecture. I luckily had put on my sword, and I determined, if they
attempted to confine or ill treat me, to sell my life as dearly as I
could. However, it was not my life they wanted; they had a more
ambitious and less dangerous scheme in view. In a little time, the lady,
drowned in tears, and with well-acted distress, entered the room,
accompanied by her cousin, as the mother had called him. The gentleman
chose to put on a fierce and threatening look, and swore I should do
justice to his charming cousin, whom he loved more than life, or that
moment settle the matter with him as a gentleman ought to do.
I laid my hand on my sword: Catharine flew to me, fell at my feet, and
begged I would not terrify her to death by exposing a life so dear to
the risk of fighting with her cousin. She then lamented her weakness,
and entreated me to compassionate the sorrows in which I had
involved her.
I loudly demanded what all this meant,--declared I had no design against
her heart, nor any desire to be favoured with her hand, my own having
been long engaged to the best and fairest of her sex, and to whom alone
all my wishes were confined. The gentleman again approached me; the lady
chose to fall into a fit, and was supported by her female accomplices. A
priest at that moment entered the room.
"You are come in good time, (said the pretended cousin,) to assist us
in performing an act of justice."
The young lady at that instant recovered, and, seeing her coming to me,
I flew to the window, with an intention of opening it to call for
assistance, and, on finding it fastened, had no longer any doubts of
their premeditated designs against my peace. I therefore shook off the
fair syren, (who had clasped her hands around my arm, and, with tears,
and all the blandishments of artful beauty, besought me to have
compassion on her sufferings,) and made an effort to get out at the
door; that was likewise fastened. I then eagerly inquired for what
base purpose I was thus forcibly detained, and what it was they wanted
with me.
"Justice, (replied the bully;--justice only!--Reverend father, (said he,
addressing himself to the priest,) this fair damsel has been robbed of
her peace: her virgin fame must be lost in consequence, unless that
youth (pointed to me) will make her reparation, by giving her his hand
in marriage. It is to join them in holy wedlock we sent for you."
"I was now enraged too much, (continued Walter,) to have longer any
command over my passion.--I drew my sword, and vowed to sacrifice any
one who should dare to prevent my leaving the infamous house into which
I had been so artfully and basely trepanned.
The women now clung about me, while their bully endeavoured, but in
vain, to wrest my sword from me. He then commanded the priest to do his
office, and I know not, at that moment, what act of desperation I might
not have committed, had not you, my guardian friend and preserver,
luckily burst into the room, and prevented my ending that life in a
brothel which you protected so many years in a dungeon."
Albert embraced his young lord with tears of gratified affection.
"Long, very long, (cried he,) may your life be guarded from every
danger, and never experience a fate so disgraceful! I will inform the
Baron of what has passed: he will very soon bring these wretches to the
shame and punishment they so justly deserve."
"Not for worlds, my good Albert, would I have the story transpire! (said
Walter.)--I already know enough of human nature to be satisfied that the
recital of it would not only bring my father's displeasure upon me, but
likewise the ridicule of the world. Be assured of this, I will never
again run the risk of being drawn into danger by forming an acquaintance
with people, however specious their appearance, without their being well
known to my father or yourself. All I beg of you is, to join with me in
interceding with the Baron for permission to return to Bungay-castle. I
will there wait his pleasure, without murmur or complaint, for the
accomplishment of all my wishes. With Roseline de Morney I cannot be
unhappy;--without her my soul can know no peace."
Albert promised to do what he could with the Baron, but requested his
young lord not to be too sanguine in his hopes of prevailing on him to
consent to his leaving London, till the time was expired that he had
fixed for his stay, and on his promising not to offend him by disputing
his will as to the length of his continuance in town, he agreed to
conceal this unpleasant adventure from the Baron, strongly recommending
him to be more guarded in future, and never to let his own unsuspecting
nature lead him to conclude that the people he mixed with were as good
and as artless as himself.