Why don't I subscribe Sister? asks my dearest Lady Davers?—I have not had the Courage to do it of late. For my Title to that Honour, arises from the dear, thrice dear Mr. B. And how long I may be permitted to call him mine, I cannot say. But since you command it, I will call your Ladyship by that beloved Name, let the rest happen as God shall see fit.

Mr. B. cannot be unpolite; but he is cold, and a little cross, and short in his Speeches to me. I try to hide my Grief from every body, and from him most; for, my dear Lady, neither my Father, Mother, nor Miss Darnford, know any thing from me. Mrs. Jervis, from whom I seldom hide any thing, as she is on the Spot with me, hears not my Complainings, nor my Uneasiness; for I would not lessen the dear Gentleman. He may yet see the Error of the Way he is in. God grant it, for his own sake, as well as mine!—I am even sorry your Ladyship is afflicted with the Knowlege of the Matter.

The poor unhappy Lady, God forgive her! is to be pity’d: She loves him, and having strong Passions, and being unus’d to be controul’d, is lost to a Sense of Honour and Justice; poor, poor Lady!—O these wicked Masquerades! From them springs all my Unhappiness! My Spaniard was too amiable, and met with a Lady who was no Nun, but in Habit. Every one was taken with him in that Habit, so suited to the natural Dignity of his Person!—O these wicked, wicked Masquerades!

I am all Patience in Appearance, all Uneasiness in Reality. I did not think I could, especially in this Point, this most affecting Point, be such an Hypocrite. It has cost me—Your Ladyship knows not what it has cost me! to be able to assume that Character! Yet my Eyes are swell’d with crying, and look red, altho’ I am always breathing on my Hand, and patting them with that, and my warm Breath, to hide the Distress that will, from my over-charged Heart, appear in them.

Then he says, What's the matter with the little Fool! You’re always in this Way. What ails you, Pamela?