I had but just come down, having
tired myself with my pen, and was sitting talking with Mrs. Jewkes and
Mrs. Worden, whom I would, though unwillingly on their sides, make sit
down, which they did over against me. Mrs. Worden asked my pardon, in a
good deal of confusion, for the part she had acted against me; saying,
That things had been very differently represented to her; and that she
little thought I was married, and that she was behaving so rudely to the
lady of the house. I said, I took nothing amiss; and very freely forgave her; and hoped my
new condition would not make me forget how to behave properly to every
one; but that I must endeavour to act not unworthy of it, for the honour
of the gentleman who had so generously raised me to it.
Mrs. Jewkes said, that my situation gave me great opportunities of
shewing the excellence of my nature, that I could forgive offences
against me so readily, as she, for her own part, must always, she said,
acknowledge, with confusion of face.
People, said I, Mrs. Jewkes, don't know how they shall act, when their
wills are in the power of their superiors; and I always thought one
should distinguish between acts of malice, and of implicit obedience;
though, at the same time, a person should know how to judge between
lawful and unlawful. And even the great, though at present angry they
are not obeyed, will afterwards have no ill opinion of a person for
withstanding them in their unlawful commands.
Mrs. Jewkes seemed a little concerned at this; and I said, I spoke
chiefly from my own experience: For that I might say, as they both knew
my story, that I had not wanted both for menaces and temptations; and
had I complied with the one, or been intimidated by the other, I should
not have been what I was. Ah, madam! replied Mrs. Jewkes, I never knew any body like you; and I
think your temper sweeter, since the happy day, than before; and that,
if possible, you take less upon you.
Why, a good reason, said I, may be assigned for that: I thought myself
in danger: I looked upon every one as my enemy; and it was impossible
that I should not be fretful, uneasy, jealous. But when my dearest
friend had taken from me the ground of my uneasiness, and made me quite
happy, I should have been very blamable, if I had not shewn a satisfied
and easy mind, and a temper that should engage every one's respect and
love at the same time, if possible: And so much the more, as it was
but justifying, in some sort, the honour I had received: For the fewer
enemies I made myself, the more I engaged every one to think, that my
good benefactor had been less to blame in descending as he has done.