My son's account was too long to be delivered at once; the first part of it was begun that night, and he was concluding the
rest after dinner the next day, when the appearance of Mr. Thornhill's equipage at the door seemed to make a pause in the
general satisfaction. The butler, who was now become my friend in the family, informed me with a whisper that the 'Squire had
already made some overtures to Miss Wilmot, and that her aunt and uncle seemed highly to approve the match. Upon Mr.
Thornhill's entering, he seemed at seeing my son and me to start back; but I readily imputed that to surprise and not displeasure.
However, upon our advancing to salute him, he returned our greeting with the most apparent candor; and after a short time his
presence served only to increase the general good-humor,

   After tea he called me aside to inquire after my daughter; but upon my informing him that my inquiry was unsuccessful, he
seemed greatly surprised; adding

that he had been since frequently at my house in order to comfort the rest of my family, whom he left perfectly well. He then
asked if I had communicated her misfortune to Miss Wilmot or my son; and upon my replying that I had not told them as yet,
he greatly approved my prudence and precaution, desiring me by all means to keep it a secret. "For at best,' 'cried he, "it is but
divulging one's own infamy; and perhaps Miss Livy may not be so guilty as we all imagine." We were here interrupted by a
servant, who came to ask the 'Squire in to stand up at country dances; so that he left me quite pleased with the interest he
seemed to take in my concerns. His addresses, however, to Miss Wilmot were too obvious to be mistaken; and yet she
seemed not perfectly pleased, but bore them rather in compliance to the will of her aunt than from real inclination. I had even
the satisfaction to see her lavish some kind looks upon my unfortunate son, which the other could neither extort by his fortune
nor assiduity. Mr. Thornhill's seeming composure, however, not a little surprised me. We had now continued here a week, at
the pressing instance of Mr. Arnold; but each day the more tenderness Miss Wilmot showed my son, Mr. Thornhill's friendship
seemed proportionably to increase for him.

   He had formerly made us the most kind assurances of using his interest to serve the family; but now his generosity was not
confined to promises alone. The

morning I designed for my departure, Mr. Thornhill came to me, with looks of real pleasure, to inform me of a piece of service
he had done for his friend George. This was nothing less than his having procured him an ensign's commission in one of the
regiments that was going to the West Indies, for which he had promised but one hundred pounds, his interest having been
sufficient to get an abatement of the other two. "As for this trifling piece of service," continued the young gentleman, "I desire no
other reward but the pleasure of having served my friend; and as for the hundred pounds to be paid, if you are unable to raise it
yourselves, I will advance it, and you shall repay me at your leisure." This was a favor we wanted words to express our sense
of; I readily therefore gave my bond for the money, and testified as much gratitude as if I never intended to pay.

   George was to depart for town the next day to secure his commission, in pursuance of his generous patron's directions, who
judged it highly expedient to use despatch, lest, in the meantime, another should step in with more advantageous proposals. The
next morning, therefore, our young soldier was early prepared for his departure, and seemed the only person among us that
was not affected by it. Neither the fatigues and dangers he was going to encounter, nor the friends and mistress (for Miss
Wilmot actually loved him) he was leaving behind, any way damped his spirits. After he

had taken leave of the rest of the company, I gave him all I had, my blessing. "And now, my boy," cried I, "thou art going to
fight for thy country; remember how thy brave grandfather fought for his sacred king, when loyalty among Britons was a virtue.
Go, my boy, and imitate him in all but his misfortunes, if it was a misfortune to die with Lord Falkland. Go, my boy, and if you
fall, though distant, exposed, and unwept by those that love you, the most precious tears are those with which Heaven bedews
the unburied head of a soldier."

   The next morning I took leave of the good family that had been kind enough to entertain me so long, not without several
expressions of gratitude to Mr. Thornhill for his late bounty. I left them in the enjoyment of all that happiness which affluence
and good breeding procure, and returned towards home, despairing of ever finding my daughter more, but sending a sigh to
Heaven to spare and forgive her. I was now come within about twenty miles of home, having hired a horse to carry me, as I
was yet but weak, and comforted myself with the hopes of soon seeing all I held dearest upon earth. But the night coming on, I
put up at a little public house by the roadside, and asked for the landlord's company over a pint of wine. We sat beside his
kitchen fire, which was the best room in the house, and chatted on politics and the news of the country. We happened, among
other topics, to talk of

young 'Squire Thornhill, who, the host assured me was hated as much as his uncle, Sir William, who sometimes came down to
the country, was loved. He went on to observe, that he made it his whole study to betray the daughters of such as received him
into their houses, and after a fortnight or three weeks' possession, turned them out unrewarded and abandoned to the world.

   As we continued our discourse in this manner, his wife, who had been out to get change, returned, and perceiving that her
husband was enjoying a pleasure in which she was not a sharer, she asked him, in an angry tone, what he did there; to which he
only replied in an ironical way, by drinking her health. "Mr. Symonds," cried she, "you use me very ill, and I'll bear it no longer.
Here three parts of the business is left for me to do, and the fourth left unfinished; while you do nothing but soak with the guests
all day long; whereas if a spoonful of liquor were to cure me of a fever, I never touch a drop." I now found what she would be
at, and immediately poured her out a glass, which she received with a courtesy, and drinking towards my good health. "Sir,"
resumed she, "it is not so much for the value of the liquor I am angry, but one cannot help it when the house is going out of the
windows. If the customers or guests are to be dunned, all the burden lies upon my back; he'd as lief eat that glass as budge
after them himself. There

now, above-stairs, we have a young woman who has come to take up her lodgings here, and I don't believe she has got any
money, by her over-civility. I am certain she is very slow of payment, and I wish she were put in mind of it." "What signifies
minding her?" cried the host; "if she be slow she is sure."-"I don't know that," replied the wife: "but I know that I am sure she
has been here a fortnight, and we have not yet seen the cross of her money."-"I suppose, my dear," cried he, "we shall have it
all in a lump."-"In a lump!" cried the other. "I hope we may get it in any way; and that I am resolved we will this very night, or
out she tramps, bag and baggage."-"Consider, my dear," cried the husband, "she is a gentlewoman, and deserves more
respect."-"As for the matter of that," returned the hostess, "gentle or simple, out she shall pack with a sussarara. Gentry may be
good things where they take; but for my part I never saw much good of them at the sign of the Harrow."

   Thus saying, she ran up a narrow flight of stairs that went from the kitchen to a room overhead, and I soon perceived, by the
loudness of her voice, and the bitterness of her reproaches, that no money was to be had from her lodger. I could hear her
remonstrances very distinctly: "Out, I say; pack out this moment; tramp, thou infamous strumpet! or I'll give thee a mark you
won't be the better for this three months. What! you trumpery, to come and take up an honest house without

cross or coin to bless yourself with; come along, I say!"-"O dear madam," cried the stranger, "pity me, pity a poor abandoned
creature for one night, and death will soon do the rest!" I instantly knew the voice of my poor, ruined child Olivia. I flew to her
rescue, while the woman was dragging her along by the hair, and I caught the dear forlorn wretch in my arms. "Welcome, any
way welcome, my dearest lost one, my treasure, to your poor old father's bosom! Though the vicious forsake thee, there is yet
one in the world that will never forsake thee; though thou hadst ten thousand crimes to answer for, he will forget them all."-"O
my own dear-" for minutes she could say no more-"my own dearest, good papa! Could angels be kinder? How do I deserve
so much! The villain! I hate him and myself, to be a reproach to such goodness. You can't forgive me. I know you
cannot."-"Yes, my child, from my heart I do forgive thee! only repent, and we both shall yet be happy. We shall see many
pleasant days yet! my Olivia!"-"Ah! never, sir, never. The rest of my wretched life must be infamy abroad and shame at home.
But alas! papa, you look much paler than you used to do. Could such a thing as I am give you so much uneasiness ? Surely you
have too much wisdom to take the miseries of my guilt upon yourself.""Our wisdom, young woman," replied I-"Ah, why so cold
a name, papa?" cried she. "This is the first time you ever called me by so cold a name." "I ask pardon,

my darling," returned I; "but I was going to observe that wisdom makes but a slow defence against trouble, though at last a sure
one."

   The landlady now returned to know if we did not choose a more genteel apartment; to which assenting, we were shown a
room where we could converse more freely. After we had talked ourselves into some degree of tranquillity, I could not avoid
desiring some account of the gradations that led to her present wretched situation. "That villain, sir," said she, "from the first day
of our meeting made me honorable though private proposals."

   "Villain, indeed," cried I; "and yet it in some measure surprises me bow a person of Mr. Burchell's good-sense and seeming
honor could be guilty of such deliberate baseness, and thus step into a family to undo it."

   "My dear papa," returned my daughter, "you labor under a strange mistake. Mr. Burchell never attempted to deceive me;
instead of that, he took every opportunity of privately admonishing me against the artifices of Mr. Thornhill, who I now find was
even worse than he represented him."-"Mr. Thornhill!" interrupted I, "can it be?"-"Yes, sir," returned she, "it was Mr. Thornhill
who seduced me, who employed the two ladies as he called them, but who in fact were abandoned women of the town without
breeding or pity, to decoy us up to London. Their artifices, you may remember, would have certainly succeeded, but for Mr.

Burchell's letter, who directed those reproaches at them, which we all applied to ourselves. How he came to have so much
influence as to defeat their intentions still remains a secret to me; but I am convinced he was ever our warmest, sincerest friend."

   "You amaze me, my dear," cried I; "but now I find my first suspicions of Mr. Thornhill's baseness were too well grounded;
but he can triumph in security, for he is rich and we are poor. But tell me, my child, sure it was no small temptation that could
thus obliterate all the impressions of such an education and so virtuous a disposition as thine?"

   "Indeed, sir," replied she, "he owes all his triumph to the desire I had of making him, and not myself, happy. I knew that the
ceremony of our marriage, which was privately performed by a Popish priest, was no way binding, and that I had nothing to
trust to but his honor."-"What!" interrupted I, "and were you indeed married by a priest, and in orders?"-"Indeed, sir, we were,"
replied she, "though we were both sworn to conceal his name."-"Why then, my child, come to my arms again; and now you are
a thousand times more welcome than before; for you are now his wife to all intents and purposes; nor can all the laws of man,
though written upon the tablets of adamant lessen the force of that sacred connection."

   "Alas! papa," replied she," you are but little acquainted with his villainies; he has been married already

by the same priest to six or eight wives more, whom, like me, he has deceived and abandoned."

   "Has he so?" cried I, "then we must hang the priest, and you shall inform against him to-morrow."-"But, sir," returned she,
"will that be right, when I am sworn to secrecy?"-"My dear," I replied, "if you have made such a promise I cannot, nor will I
tempt you to break it. Even though it may benefit the public, you must not inform against him. In all human institutions a smaller
evil is allowed, to procure a greater good; as in politics, a province may be given away to secure a kingdom; in medicine a limb
may be lopped off to preserve the body. But in religion, the law is written and inflexible, never to do evil. And this law, my
child, is right; for otherwise, if we commit a smaller evil to procure a greater good, certain guilt would be thus incurred, in
expectation of contingent advantages. And though the advantage should certainly follow, yet the interval between commission
and advantage, which is allowed to be guilty, may be that in which we are called away to answer for the things we have done,
and the volume of human actions is closed forever. But I interrupt you, my dear; go on."

   "The next morning," continued she, "I found what little expectation I was to have from his sincerity. That very morning he
introduced me to two more unhappy women, whom, like me, he had deceived, but who lived in contented prostitution. I loved
him too tenderly to

bear such rivals in his affections, and strove to forget my infamy in a tumult of pleasure. With this view, I danced, dressed, and
talked; but still was unhappy. The gentlemen who visited there told me every moment of the power of my charms, and this only
contributed to increase my melancholy, as I had thrown all their power quite away. Thus each day I grew more pensive, and he
more insolent; till at last the monster had the assurance to offer me to a young baronet of his acquaintance. Need I describe, sir,
how his ingratitude stung me! My answer to his proposal was almost madness. I desired to part. As I was going, he offered me
a purse; but I flung it at him with indignation, and burst from him in a rage that for a while kept me insensible of the miseries of
my situation. But I soon looked round me, and saw myself a vile, abject, guilty thing, without one friend in the world to apply to.

   "Just in that interval a stage-coach happening to pass by, I took a place; it being my only aim to be driven at a distance from a
wretch I despised and detested. I was set down here, where, since my arrival, my own anxiety and this woman's unkindness
have been my own companions. The hours of pleasure that I have passed with my mother and sister now grow painful to me.
Their sorrows are much; but mine are greater than theirs; for mine are mixed with guilt and infamy."

   "Have patience, my child," cried I, "and I hope

things will yet be better. Take some repose to-night, and to-morrow I'll carry you home to your mother and the rest of the
family, from whom you will receive a kind reception. Poor woman! this has gone to her heart, but she loves you still, Olivia, and
will forget it."