Your dutiful Daughter.
I have been scared out of my senses, for just now, as I was folding up
this letter in my lady's dressing-room, in comes my young master! Good
sirs, how I was frightened! I went to hide the letter in my bosom, and
he, seeing me tremble, said smiling, "To whom have you been writing,
Pamela?" I said, in my confusion, "Pray your honour, forgive me! Only to
my father and mother." "Well, then, let me see what a hand you write."
He took it without saying more, and read it quite through, and then gave
it me again. He was not angry, for he took me by the hand and said, "You
are a good girl to be kind to your aged father and mother; tho' you
ought to be wary what tales you send out of a family." And then he said,
"Why, Pamela, you write a pretty hand, and _spell_ very well, too. You
may look into any of my mother's books to improve yourself, so you take
care of them."
But I am making another long letter, so will only add to it, that I
shall ever be your dutiful daughter.