mother did once live there, and if I do not find her there, I will go through Holland, to Amsterdam, to Rotterdam; in short, I will go till I find my mother out, if I should die in the pursuit" I should be glad to hear of thine and thy spouse's welfare, and remain with much sincerity, your sincere friend,
M. P.
called October.
P.S. If thou hast any business to transact in this city, pray let me know; I shall use my best endeavours to oblige thee; my daughters all join with me in willing thee a hearty farewell.'
I concealed my surprise for a few minutes, only till I could get into the summer-house, at the bottom of our large garden; but, when I was shut in, no living soul can describe the agony I was in; I raved, tore, fainted away, swore, prayed, wished, cried, and promised, but all availed nothing, I was now stuck in to see the worst of it, let what would happen.
At last I came to the following resolution, which was to write a letter to the Quaker, and in it enclose a fifty pound bank-bill, and tell the Quaker, to give that to the young woman if she called again, and also to let her know a fifty pound bill should be sent her every year, so long as she made no inquiry after me, and kept herself retired in England. Although this opened myself too full to the Quaker, yet I thought I had better venture my character abroad, than destroy my peace at home.
Soon after, my husband came home, and he perceived I had been crying, and asked what was the reason. I told him that I had shed tears both for joy and sorrow: 'For', said I, 'I have received one of the tenderest letters from Amy, as it was possible for any person, and she tells me in it', added I, 'that she will soon come to see me; which so overjoyed me, that I cried, and after it, I went to read the letter a second time, as I was looking out of the summer-house window over the canal; and in unfolding it, I accidentally let it fall in, by which mischance it is lost, for which I am very sorry, as I intended you should see it.' 'Pray, my dear', said he, 'do not let that give you any uneasiness; if Amy comes, and you approve of it, you have my consent to take her into the house, in what capacity you please. I am very glad', continued he, 'that you have nothing of more consequence to be uneasy at, I fancy you would make but an indifferent helpmate if you had.' Oh! thought I to myself, if you but knew half the things that lie on my conscience, I believe you would think that I bear them out past all example.
About ten days afterwards, as we were sitting at dinner with two gentlemen, one of the footmen came to the door, and said 'My lady, here is a gentlewoman at the door who desires to speak with you: she says her name is Mrs Amy.'
I no sooner heard her name, but I was ready to swoon away, but I ordered the footman to call Isabel, and ask the gentlewoman to walk up with her into my dressing-room; which he immediately did, and there I went to have my first interview with her. She kissed me for joy when she saw me, and I sent Isabel downstairs, for I was in pain till I had some private conversation with my old confidante.
There was not much ceremony between us, before I told her all the
