When our young deceiver and her mother had a little recovered from the emotions occasioned by their disappointment, they began to consider what they had best do: the family Syrena had quitted, kept so much company, that for her to think of getting into any other as a servant was dangerous; as she possibly might be seen, by those she had ill-treated, and by that means be exposed: it therefore seemed most prudent to get out of the way for some time, and trust to chance for adventures. Greenwich was the place they pitched on for a retirement; and Mrs Tricksy having sold what few houshold goods she had, took a neat, but plain ready-furnished lodging, for herself and daughter, at a house which had a door into the park; as judging not improbable, but that by frequent walking there, the little harpy might happen on some prey to her advantage: the event in part answered to their wish; her youth, her beauty, and seeming innocence, soon made her be taken notice of by several gentlemen, whom the season of the year, and the pleasantness of the place, had drawn thither; but he that seemed most affected with her charms, was Mr D––, he had often seen her walking in the park, sometimes with her mother, and sometimes with a young lady, who lodged in the same house with them; and had more than once fallen into such little conversations with them, as the freedom of a country place allows, without being particular; his eyes however discovered something, which did not 'scape the vigilant observation of both mother and daughter, and afforded a prospect they so much wished to find.

            Mr D–– was a young gentleman of about 800l. a year, was contracted to a lady called Maria, and shortly to be married to her, with the consent of the friends on both sides; but a near relation in Lincolnshire, from whom she expected a considerable augmentation of her fortune, being taken ill, the young lady was gone to make her visit. During her absence, Mr D–– intended to pass the time at Greenwich, a place he always liked, but now more especially; the solemn prospect of the sea indulging those ideas, which persons separated from those they love, are ordinarily possessed of. The first sight of Syrena struck him with a kind of pleasing surprise;–he fancied he saw something in her face, like that of her he had for many years been accustomed to admire: he little thought how much he injured the virtuous maid, by making any comparison between her and this unworthy resemblance; or that the affection he had vowed to Maria, could ever be diminished by an innocent conversation with Syrena; yet so it was, by pleasing himself with seeing her for the sake of another, he by degrees grew delighted with seeing her for her own–so little do we know ourselves, and so hard it is to preserve constancy in absence. As on his first acquaintance with Syrena, he had no manner of design upon her, he made no secret of his affairs, and talked of his beloved Maria in the most tender terms; but afterwards mentioned her name with less and less emotions; and from being passionately fond of talking of her, fell at last into an uneasiness of hearing her spoken of at all.

            Mrs Tricksy therefore had some reason to flatter herself, that the impression her daughter had made on him, had erased that of the mistress he had so long adored; and that he wanted nothing but an opportunity to confess it to her; on which it was contrived, that she should throw herself in his way, at a time, when there should be no witnesses of their conversation. They knew he was accustomed to walk early in the morning, on that side of the park that has the prospect of the sea; and there on the side of a hill did Syrena place herself, leaning in a pensive posture, her head upon her hand; she had not waited long before Mr D–– came that way, and felt (as he afterwards called it) a guilty flutter at his heart, in perceiving she was alone. He accosted her at first only with the usual salutations of the morning; but she, with a modest blush, downcast eyes, and all the tokens of an innocent surprise (which she before had practised in her glass) soon allured him to entertain her in a more tender manner. "I am afraid miss," said he, "I have disturbed your contemplations, and perhaps been injurious to the happy man who was the subject of them; for it cannot be that a young lady like you should choose this solitary place, but to indulge ideas more agreeable than any company can afford." "It is certain, sir," replied she, "that there is a pleasure in being alone sometimes; but I assure you that is not my case at present: I love to rise early, the sweetness of the morning tempted me abroad, and the few acquaintance I have here, are all too lazy to partake of it." "Then," rejoined he, "you will give me leave to be your companion?" "Provided," answered she gaily, "your complaisance is no violence on your inclination; for as you have owned yourself a lover, it may very well be supposed you come here to indulge those ideas, you just now accused me of." "Perhaps, miss," said he, "I can nowhere so well indulge them as in your presence." "That's impossible," replied she, "unless I had seen the object of your affections, and could expatiate on the beauties of her shape, her air, her face, and wit." "While you show me your own," cried he, "I need no more to inspire me with the most passionate sentiments. Sure none," added he, "catching her in his arms, can see the charming Syrena, and lose a thought on any other object." "Hold! Hold! Good sir!" said she, disengaging herself from him, "you grow a little too free, and I shall be in danger of growing too serious. What!" continued she, "this from a man in love with another woman!" "Whatever I may have felt, for any other woman," replied he, "while I see Syrena, I can love nothing but her." "O fie!" rejoined she, "what has a man to offer, that has already disposed of his vows." "His heart," answered he. "O! Then I find," said she, "your heart is like a ready-furnished chamber, to be let to the first comer, who must go out at a short warning, on the prospect of a more advantageous lodger."

            The reader will perceive she was here acting the coquette. The reason of it was, that imagining a sprightly behaviour would be most agreeable to a man of his gay temper; and as she could have no hopes of gaining him for a husband, things having been gone so far with Maria, whose fortune she had heard was to pay off his sister's portion, she thought too great a reserve might deter him from making any addresses to her; and though she could not expect any settlement, as her affairs now were, it seemed better to play at a small game, than stick out.

            She continued to rally with him for some time, and her wit and the little artifices she made use of, so much inflamed his amorous inclinations, that he was ready almost to take the advantage of that solitary place, and become a ravisher for the gratification of them; but it needed not, she received his caresses in such a manner, as afforded him a sufficient cause to hope, she would not be cruel. She promised to meet him the next morning, at the same place and hour, and let fall, as if unguarded, some hints that she wanted only to be convinced of his affection, to give him the proof of hers that he desired.

            The time of their assignation being arrived, both were punctual, and she allowed him yet greater freedoms than before, but kept back that he was most eager to obtain; he was not to seek what 'twas she aimed at, and presented her with a diamond ring, which she accepted as a proof of his love. The next day he brought her a gold watch, and after that an embroidered purse with fifty broad pieces. All which she took, without returning him anything in exchange, but the liberty of kissing and embracing her, not that she absolutely refused him; but pretended she would find a fitter opportunity, and that her mamma was to go shortly to London, on some business that would detain her the whole day and night; and that she would then contrive a way, to get him privately into their own lodging. This satisfied him for the present, but finding no effect of the promises she made him, he began to grow impatient; and was for seizing the joy he aimed at, in a place where the seeming delicacy of Syrena, would not consent to yield it him. She found means, however, to prevent him, both from having any suspicion she had a design to jilt him, or from compassing his intent, till she thought fit to grant it.

            The motives of her behaving in this fashion, were two; the first was to get as much as she could of him, before she granted him any material favour, having an after-game in her head to play upon him; and the other was, that she had another lover whom she found her account in managing.

            This was a rich Portuguese merchant, who having finished some business, which had brought him to England, was on the point of returning to his family, when Mrs Tricksy and her daughter came to Greenwich: he lodged at the next door to them, and being charmed with Syrena, soon got acquainted with them. The cunning mother soon perceived his inclination, and to encourage him to discover it, in a proper manner, was always entertaining him with the misfortunes of her family, and the straits to which they were subjected. He took the hint, and gave her to understand, he was ready to contribute to the relief of the necessities she complained of, provided he might obtain a grateful return from the fair Syrena. In fine, the agreement was soon struck up between them; he gave his gold, and Syrena her person. As he had begun to visit them at their first coming, there was no suspicion in the house of the amour, which lasted for about a month; at the end of which, having fully satisfied his desires, and the necessity of his affairs calling him to Portugal, he took his leave: and Syrena had now leisure to prosecute her intrigue with Mr D––, which she could not so well do, while the merchant was so near her.

            She had met by appointment this young gentleman for several mornings; but she now came not according to her promise, which did not a little perplex him; but he saw her in the afternoon in the park, accompanied by that lady, who frequently walked with her in the evenings. He joined them as usual, and discoursed with them on ordinary things; but perceived a gloom on the face of Syrena, which he had never seen before, and found that she frequently sighed: he longed for an opportunity to enquire the cause, but could find none in that company. Syrena too, whenever she looked upon him, expressed some impatience in her eyes; but for what he was not able to guess; till they turned a corner to go down a walk, she let her handkerchief drop, which he taking up, and returning to her she slipped a paper into his hand at the same time, and he conveyed into his pocket unperceived by the other. Syrena after this seemed tired with walking, and with her companion took leave of Mr D––, who eager to see what his billet contained, made no efforts to detain them; and as soon as they were out of sight, found to his great surprise these lines.

            Dear sir,
            That I met you not this morning, was owing to the misfortune of my mother's finding the presents, you were so kind to make me; and which I had concealed from her, knowing how scrupulous she is in such things. She would needs make me tell her how I came by them, I had no way to conceal the truth, and was obliged to endure a strict examination on what had passed between us. I assured, as I well might, that our conversation had been perfectly innocent; but was obliged to add, that your addresses to me were on an honourable foot. She told me she would believe nothing of it, unless she heard it confirmed by your mouth, and had sent for you today, if company had not come from London to visit us, on purpose to return the watch and ring; for the purse she knows nothing of, and hear what you would say as to your designs on me. Therefore, dear sir, do not contradict what I have said, unless you would for ever be deprived of the sight, and thereby break the heart of,
            Your Syrena.

            P.S. If you humour my mamma in this article, you will have leave to visit me, and we may be together as much as either of us desire. Pray burn this.

            Mr D–– was so much shocked at this proposal, that for some moments all the love he had for Syrena was converted into contempt, imagining it a trick contrived between mother and daughter, to draw him into a promise of marriage; but when he reflected that the girl had behaved in a quite contrary manner, the good opinion he had of her sincerity, soon cleared her from having any share in it. He had great debates within himself what to do in the affair: he thought it base to pretend a thing which he was far from intending; but then the exposing a young creature who loved him, to the rage of a mother, whom he supposed she stood much in awe of; together with the thoughts of never seeing her any more, out-balanced the consideration of his own honour; and he chose, as, indeed, most do, when they are in love, to sacrifice his character to his passion, rather than his passion to his character, since he found himself in a dilemma, where both could not be maintained.

            The next day, as he expected, the servant of the house, where Mrs Tricksy lodged, brought him a letter, which was to this purpose.

            Sir,
            I am sorry to have occasion to write to desire you will call on me, on an affair which you ought to have found an occasion of communicating to me. I scarce think you can be ignorant of what I mean, though I am as to your real designs; but if they are of a nature fit to be acknowledged, to a person in the circumstances I am in; you will not hesitate to come, and immediately declare to her, who wishes to be with honour,
            Sir,
            your obliged humble servant,
            Ann Tricksy.

            This letter, and the summons it contained, renewed his confusion; but he found himself under a necessity of giving some answer; and as he did not care to write, bid the messenger give his service to the lady, and say he would wait on her as soon as he was dressed. He was afterwards several times prompted by his good genius to break his word on this occasion, and go directly for London, without troubling himself about what Syrena or her mother should think of him; but the presents he had made, and the happiness which they were to purchase for him, got again the better of the dictates of his prudence, or his consideration for Maria; and he went with a resolution to make the mother of his new charmer satisfied.

            Few women knew better how to behave themselves on all occasions than Mrs Tricksy; and on this 'tis not to be doubted if she exerted all her artifice: she received him with the greatest respect, yet at the same time mingled a certain severity in her air, which gave him to understand, she expected to be answered with truth, to the questions she had to ask him; the principal of which were, on what score he had made her daughter such valuable presents? And when he had told her on the most honourable one: wherefore his intentions, and the courtship between them had been concealed from the person, who as a parent ought to have been consulted? To this he replied, that he was willing to know how far he could influence the affections of the young lady, without the interposition of a mother's commands; and that also as he was contracted to another, it would be highly improper that the world should have any suspicion he had made a second choice, till he had found some pretence to break entirely off with the first.

            On these declarations, Mrs Tricksy seemed perfectly easy, and telling him she depended on his honour and veracity, gave him leave to visit Syrena, as often as he pleased; and assured him at the same time, that she would keep his secret inviolably till a proper time for revealing it; and that the family where they lived should never know he came there, with any other view than to chat away a leisure hour, as an ordinary acquaintance.

            Glad was Mr D––, when he was got over this task: he was a man who naturally hated all kind of deceit, and looked on lying, as beneath the dignity of his species; he could not therefore utter words so foreign to his heart without feeling an inward shock. Yet so great an ascendant had the charms of Syrena gained over him, that the unhappy passion he had for her, corrupted even his very morals; and made him think nothing vile that tended to the enjoyment of her.

            Mrs Tricksy, in the meantime was far from believing what he said, though she feigned to do so, nor indeed had not yet formed any design to draw him in to marry her daughter; because his former engagement, and the necessity of his affairs requiring he should keep it, she had looked on it as an impracticable attempt. All her design in obliging him to pretend an honourable passion, was only to support her own character, and compel him afterwards to do more for Syrena, than perhaps his inclinations would have excited him to; but I will not anticipate.

            Mr D––, had now all the opportunity he could wish with Syrena, which he did not fail to make use of for the gratification of his desires; and our young dissembler so well acted her part, that he imagined never woman loved to a greater height than she did: in the midst of this intrigue, he received a letter from Maria, and another from that kinswoman at whose house she was: that lady being recovered from her indisposition, and loath to lose Maria's company, made him an invitation to come down, telling him as what she imagined would be a great inducement, that he would have the pleasure of conducting to London, that dear person, who was shortly to be his companion for life. Maria also desired him to come, in terms as pressing as her modesty would permit, and the engaging manner in which she wrote somewhat awaked his former tenderness; but happening to see Syrena the same evening, and mentioning the invitation, the artful creature presently fell into fits, crying out between her counterfeited agonies, "O! I shall never see you more–you love Maria–you will marry her–Syrena will be forgot–but I will not live to be forsaken." then ran to the window as though she would throw herself out; and on his taking her in his arms, and vowing never to be ungrateful to her love, clung about his waist, bathed his hands and bosom with her tears; then swooned again, and in fine, so well feigned the desperate half dying lover, that he thought he should be the most cruel of mankind, to quit so soft, so endearing a creature; all he could say or do however could not pacify her, till he gave her the most solemn assurances not to go to Lincolnshire; and the more to convince her of the sincerity of what he said, wrote an excuse to the ladies in her presence, for his refusal.

            When Syrena told her mother how much he was affected with her pretended grief, and the condescension he had made, the old woman began to be of opinion that he really loved enough to marry her, if it were not for his engagement with Maria, and from that moment thought of nothing but how it might be broke off. The most feasible way she could invent was to make that lady think him unworthy her affection. She knew very well how far pride and slighted love work in the minds of women, and without farther delay wrote to Maria in the following terms.

To Miss Maria S––, at Mrs J––'s house in Lincolnshire
            Madam,
            The assurances you have given Mr D–– of making him happy in your person and fortune, might justly render any man highly contented with his lot; but as our happiness consists chiefly in the sense we have of it, I am sorry to inform you Mr D–– is ignorant of his. I beg you will not suspect I give you this unwelcome intelligence out of any sinister view, for I assure you, madam, I am a person who have not the last self-interest in this point; and nothing but the love I bear to truth and justice could have prevailed on me to let you know how void of both Mr D–– is now become. You had no sooner left London than he went to Greenwich, in pursuit of a young girl esteemed very beautiful, but I have never seen her, so take that character of her upon trust; I am, however, very certain that she is so in the eyes of Mr D––; that he makes honourable addresses to her, and has assured her mother that he only waits an opportunity to break with you, and will then avow his passion for her in the face of the world. I appeal to yourself for one proof of what I say, if it be true as he gives out that you invited him to Lincolnshire, and he declined accepting that favour on a frivolous pretence. If you know this to be real, it is easy for you to convince yourself yet farther, by employing any person to inspect into his behaviour, while you are absent. It would be vain to wish you might hear it is such as would merit your approbation. The next blessing therefore that can attend you is, that you may be undeceived in your good opinion before the indissoluble knot is tied, that would put it out of your power to punish his ingratitude, which is the sole motive of this trouble, from
            Madam,
            your unknown friend.

            This mischievous letter Mrs Tricksy sent to Lincolnshire by the post, after having got it copied by a friend in London, to prevent any suspicion it was herself that wrote it, in case Maria in a rage should either send it up to Mr D––, or show it him at her return. The unfortunate gentleman little guessing what had been contrived against him, continued treating, presenting, and caressing his pretty Syrena, till he was sent for to London on the arrival of an uncle, who had been three years in Antigua; and whose absence, he being guardian to his nephew, alone had so long retarded the nuptials of Mr D–– and Maria, the friends of that lady insisting on accounts being made up between them before marriage.

            Syrena no sooner heard this news, than she had recourse to all her artifices to retain him; tears, complaints, and faintings were all employed to detain him, while the mother on the other hand plied him with remonstrances of the promise he had made her of breaking with Maria, than which she told him there could not be a fitter time than the present, as he might easily find some way to embarrass the accounts, so as to render it impossible to make any settlement on a wife to the satisfaction of her kindred. To this he coolly answered, that she might depend he would act as became a man of honour; but though he had enough to do between the mother and daughter, and had a heart relenting to the sorrows of Syrena, he began now to be satiated with enjoyment, and the virtuous affection he had avowed to Maria to resume its former dominion over his soul. He therefore took his leave of them with so ill-dissembled a concern, that they easily perceived there was a change in him no way to their advantage. Mrs Tricksy however, flattered herself with some success in her plot on Maria; she imagined that if it did not absolutely break the match it would breed a jealousy and uneasiness on her side, which in time would create a disgust on his; and that joined with a stratagem she had from the beginning intended to put in practice, would renew his affections for her daughter, and cement him to her more firmly than ever.

            Mr D–– being got to London, the pleasure he took in the society of an uncle he had not seen in so long a time, and who he looked upon as a parent, being left very young to his care, together with the hurry of settling his affairs, so took up all his mind, that there was little room for remembering his Greenwich amour; he had not however left that place above ten days before he was reminded of it by a letter from Syrena's mother. The contents whereof were as follow:

            Sir,
            I am very much surprised that you have not in all this time found a leisure hour for a visit at Greenwich, or at least for writing a line to let us know you remembered that you have some friends here, who have reason to expect that proof of your sincerity. I am loath to call your honour in question, yet as I am a mother, must beg you to reflect, how cruel it would be, to take so much pains as you have done to gain the affection of a poor innocent girl, for no other purpose than to leave her to despair. I see the concern she is in through all her care to hide it from me; and though I find enough to chide her for, in the course of her conversation with you, yet I have a mother's heart; and cannot but tremble at the apprehensions to what she will be reduced, if you should prove ungrateful or unkind. Put an end therefore, I beseech you, sir, to the suspense we both are in, inform us how your affairs are, and if you have made any progress towards getting rid of your old engagement. Syrena would fain have accompanied this with one from herself, but I would not permit it, till I had first heard from you, which I once more entreat may be with a speed, conformable to the professions you have done her the honour to make, and your promises to,
            Sir,
            your most obedient servant,
            Ann Tricksy.

            This letter put Mr D–– into a very ill-humour, he now saw some part of the ill consequences attending the prosecution of an unlawful flame, and condemned his own inconstancy as much as any other person could have done. He was in the utmost perplexity what to do to rid himself of this troublesome affair, and for a long time could not decide within his mind, whether not answering Mrs Tricksy at all, or answering her in such terms as might let her see there was nothing to be hoped from him on the score of marriage, would most contribute to that end. At length he resolved on the latter, and wrote in this manner.

            Madam,
            As I have a great opinion of your honour, and sense of religion, I can scarce think you will blame me, that on mature reflection I dare not make any efforts to break an engagement, into which I voluntarily entered. I have the utmost regard for your daughter, and doubt not but she may be much happier with any other, then she could be with one, who to be hers must be perjured. I ask your pardon for having deceived you; and shall rejoice in any opportunity that shall put it my power to atone, for what I have done, by any act of friendship, that is consistent with the character of a person, who is shortly to give his hand to another. I dare say, you have too much prudence to make any talk of this adventure, which would only create uneasiness to me, without any manner of advantage to yourself and daughter. Pray make my best wishes acceptable to her; but at the same time let her know, that all future correspondence between us, would be disreputable to her, and highly inconvenient to,
            Madam,
            your humble servant,
            D––.

            He wrote at the same time to Syrena, in these terms.

            Dear Syrena,
            I suppose you are no stranger to the contents of your mother's letter; and as you very well know, there never was any real intention of marriage between us, and that what I said to her, was merely in complaisance to your request; I should have taken it kind, if you had saved me the shock of her remonstrances, or upbraidings on that score; by seeming to think me unworthy of your affection, and pretending to her that that the imaginary courtship, broke off wholly on your side. Believe, dear girl, that I shall always retain the most grateful sense of the favours I have received from you; but as I am now going to enter into a state, which allows not the continuation of them, our interviews hereafter must be as private as possible, for both our sakes. Therefore, I beg you will make yourself easy. In a little time, perhaps, you will hear from me, more to your satisfaction, and be convinced that I shall never cease to love you.
            Yours,
            D––.

            Both these he sent by the penny-post; but directed that for Syrena under a cover, to the person at whose house he had lodged, while he was at Greenwich, that it might not fall into the mother's hands; and betray to her, that her daughter had been of the plot to deceive her: poor gentleman, little suspecting himself was the only person imposed upon, or that the excursion he had made, would be attended with consequences, which he soon after dreadfully experienced. But, methinks, I hear many of my fair readers cry out, that no punishment could be too severe for the inconstancy of Mr D––, and that the least inflicted on him, ought to be the everlasting contempt of the woman to whom he was false, and the insincerity of her for whose sake he was so. It cannot, indeed, be denied that he had acted an ungenerous part; and if we may take his own word for it, in the latter part of his letter to Syrena, had no intention to be more constant to Maria after marriage than before: 'tis certain, however, that though that insinuating creature had got but too much possession of his heart, he had at sometimes his repenting moments. He was soon after involved in perplexities from another quarter; he had wrote three letters to Maria, to none of which he had received any answer; and the last being accompanied with one to Mrs F––, he obtained one from that lady, in which he found these lines.

            Sir,
            Your letters for my cousin came safe to my house, but she being gone from me, I have according to her desire, laid them by in order to send to her, when I shall receive directions from her where to do so; for at present, I am entirely ignorant of her retirement. I know not what has happened, since she left my house, to go to that of a relation we have twenty miles hence; where, she said, she intended to pass some days; but I have heard went from thence directly in the London stage. I am greatly surprised you have not seen her, nor that she not has wrote to me. She seemed in a good deal of inward agitation at her departure, but I could get nothing from her of the motive. I wish all is well. I do not doubt now you have this intelligence, but you will make a strict enquiry, and beg as soon as 'tis in your power, you will let me know, for I am in more concern, than I am able to express.
            Sir,
            your most humble servant,
            K. J––.

            'Tis a common saying, that people seldom know the value of anything, till they are in danger of losing it. Mr D–– was not sensible himself how much he loved Maria, till this letter. Jealousy, and the fears that some accident had befallen her, by turns distracted him; he sent, he went himself to all the relations and acquaintance she had in town, to enquire after her; but to no effect; whoever he spoke to on this head, seemed no less amazed and concerned than himself, and the more he reflected on it, the more he was bewildered in his thoughts. One evening as he returned to his lodging with a heart full of disturbed emotions from this fruitless search; he was told by the people where he lodged, that a young lady had waited for him some time; as he then thought of nothing but Maria, he imagined it must be she, and flew upstairs with all the impatience of love and curiosity. But how great was his surprise, when instead of her, he found Syrena: a visit from her seemed so presuming, and at the same time so distant from that modesty she had always counterfeited before him; that on his first coming into the room, he had scarce command enough over himself, to forbear saying something, that might have been accounted too shocking to a person of her sex, and whom he once pretended to love. She gave him not much time, however, to consider how he should receive her; for rising from an easy chair into which she had thrown herself, and running to him with a most artfully assumed wildness in her countenance, the moment he entered the room. "Pardon me," cried she, "my dear, dear Mr D––, that I come here an uninvited guest; 'tis the first and last trouble I shall give you; but I could not die without seeing you: all I beg is a kind farewell, and that you will pity the unfortunate, the too tender Syrena." If he was before amazed and angry at an action, which he looked upon as too bold; he was now more confounded and grieved at a behaviour, which had in it so much the appearance of despair; and demanded hastily what had happened, and what she meant by talking of dying, and farewell? On which she told him with a flood of tears, that her mother had intercepted the letter he wrote to her, and finding by it the truth of their correspondence, and that she had been of the party to deceive her; she flew into such an extremity of rage, that she turned her out of doors, with an oath never to see her more, or own her as her child. "Thus," added the young dissembler, "I am abandoned to the world, destitute of friends, of lodging, or any means of supporting a wretched life; and what increases my misfortune, I fear I am with child. What then can I do but die? And die I will. The minute I go from you, I will seek out some private stairs that lead to the Thames, and throw myself in." Mr D––, who believed all she said, thought now of nothing, but dissuading her from so dreadful a resolution: he made use of all the arguments he was master of; assured her of his everlasting friendship, and swore that neither she, nor the dear little one, in case it was as she apprehended, should ever be to seek for support. This being what she wanted to bring him to, her distractions by little and little seemed to abate. He sent his man to provide a handsome lodging for her, gave her twenty guineas for her pocket, and promised to bring her three pounds every week, till something should offer more to her advantage.

            Now was Syrena a kept mistress, and being by his good-nature, settled in a commodious and reputable lodging, found many excuses besides her pretended pregnancy to drain money from him, more than her allowance; but not all the extravagance of love she pretended to have for him, nor all the liking he had of her person and behaviour, had the efficacy to drive Maria from his mind: her strange absenting herself from him and from all her relations, at a time, when it was expected their marriage would have been celebrated, gave him discontents, which it was in the power of no other woman to dissipate. To aggravate his confusion, he received by the penny-post an anonymous letter, the contents whereof were these.

            Sir,
            I am no stranger to your engagement with Miss S––, nor to the disquiet you at present labour under on her account, and am enough your friend to advise you, not to give yourself any farther trouble in searching after one, who if found, might occasion you to be guilty of somewhat unworthy of your character; in fine, she is in the arms of a man, whom an inconstancy natural to the sex, makes her prefer to him intended for her husband. Chance discovered the secret to me; nor would I have been so cruel to the lady, to inform you of it, had I not thought I could not have concealed it without ingratitude, having once received an obligation from you, which I cannot forget. I choose, however, to stand behind the curtain, till it is known how you relish so disagreeable an intelligence. If you have love enough to forgive this false step in Miss S––, and make her your wife, when she thinks fit to be visible, you cannot expect to know the person, whom you could not look upon without a blush; But if, thus warned, you take the advantage she has given you of concealing herself to break off, you shall be made acquainted with the whole story of her infidelity, and also the name of him, who now subscribes himself,
            Your well wisher.

            Mr D–– believing Syrena to be the most disinterested, open and sincere creature in the world, had been so weak as to entrust her with Maria's having absented herself from all her friends; the fruitless enquiry both himself and they had made after her, and also some jealous sentiments, which ever and anon rose in his mind, that so odd an elopement could have no other motive, than a new and more favoured lover; and the artful hypocrite appeared always to take the suspected lady's part, invented excuses for her having acted in that manner, and apologized for her with so much seeming earnestness, that Mr D–– was perfectly charmed with her generosity, and in some moments thought he should not be much concerned to hear the worst that could be of Maria, since he had in Syrena so faithful a friend as well as mistress. He no sooner received the above letter, than he flew to communicate it to her, though it was then very late at night, and he had passed all the afternoon with her; but as if since his unhappy amour with her, he was to be continually involved in matters of surprise, of one kind or other, he met one here he little expected, that of being told she was abroad; as he had left her quite undressed, and she had mentioned no occasion that should call her out, he knew not what to think of such a nocturnal ramble; he resolved however to wait till she returned, though it should be all night, and bid the servant of the house light him upstairs; for Syrena boarding with the family, had yet taken no maid of her own; the people durst not refuse him, and he sat down, full of various and disturbed emotions. He had not long indulged them, before casting his eye on the table, he saw a sealed letter; he took it up, and finding it directed to Mrs Syrena Tricksy, and as he thought in her mother's hand, he broke it hastily open, and found he was, not deceived; it was indeed from Mrs Tricksy, and contained these lines:

            Dear Syrena,
            I was in town yesterday, and should have been glad to have given you my opinion on what you wrote; but durst not come or send for you anywhere, for fear of Mr D––'s being with you. A little circumspection, my girl, may draw the fool in to marry you at last; therefore I am vexed you have gone so far with Captain H––s; if anything should happen to discover your intrigue with him, and Mr D–– should turn you off before you have got a settlement, the other you know has no estate, but it is too late to advise you now, only be cautious; it is lucky your keeper depends so much on your sincerity, as to tell you his suspicions of Maria; I took the hint you gave me, and sent him a letter as from an unknown person, which will make him quite confirmed of her falsehood. That I sent to Lincolnshire I am positive has had a good effect, for a person has been at Greenwich since you left it, making great enquiry concerning you and Mr D––, which could be only by Maria's orders. I dare believe by this time they heartily hate one another, and as we have contrived it, can never come to a right knowledge of the matter; only I once more charge you to take care, that nobody has it in their power to betray your affair with the Captain; and also, that you will get as much as you can of him soon, for I hear his ship will sail in a month's time. Let your next bring me an account how Mr D–– takes my anonymous letter, and whether Maria is heard of yet. I think to leave Greenwich soon, and then we may see one another privately, for I must not pretend to forgive your yielding to Mr D–– yet a-while. Adieu, dear girl. I am,
            Your loving mother,
            Ann Tricksy.

            No man that has not loved, entrusted, and been jilted, and betrayed, like Mr D––, can have a true notion of what he felt at this scene of villainy, so wonderfully laid open to him. He shuddered to think there could be so much wickedness in the world; but when he reflected that it had been practised on himself, by a person he had so much confided in, he was all rage and madness. Had he followed the first dictates of his fury, he would have stayed till the false Syrena had come home, and torn out her beguiling eyes, and soft dissembling tongue; but reason afterward remonstrating, that all he could do, would be but a demeaning of himself, and fall short of what her hypocrisy merited at his hands, he took pen and paper, and wrote to her in these terms.

            Base monster,
            A letter from your vile mother and accomplice of your crimes, has fallen into my hands; I need say no more to let you know, I am no longer a stranger to your treachery to me, and the injured Maria. Tremble then, cursed deceiver! Thou abandoned profligate! Thou hoard of complicated crimes, at my just resentment, and fly for ever from my sight, lest I stamp deformity on every limb, and make thy body as hideous as thy soul. 'Tis highly probable I am not the first, but am resolved to be the last on whom your detestable artifices shall take effect. Captain H––s shall be immediately informed what a viper he cherishes; and after, your character shall be made public, to warn all mankind from falling into those snares, so fatal to the reputation and peace of mind of
            D––.

            This letter he left for her on the table, and put that from her mother into his pocket, as an evidence of their confederated baseness; he read it over several times after he got home; but though he plainly perceived by it, that Maria had been imposed upon and made uneasy, as well as himself, by their artifices; yet he could find nothing that could give him room to think they knew what steps she had taken, any more than that a person enquiring after him at Greenwich, seemed probably employed by her; but who this person was, he could not guess; and his curiosity in that point was so great, imagining, that if he could discover this agent of Maria, he might by that means be informed where she was; that he was sometimes tempted to offer old Mrs Tricksy a free pardon for herself and daughter, if she would in the first place turn her prolific brain, for discovering the person that came to Greenwich; and in the second, make a full recantation of all she had put in practice, for sowing dissention between Maria and him; but though he would have done almost anything to come at the knowledge of the truth, yet when he came to consider a second time, he could not yield ever to see or to hold any conversation more, though for never so small a time, with those wretches, who had so grossly imposed upon and betrayed him.

            Much compassion had been due to the vexation this gentleman was involved in, had not his infidelity, in a manner, merited the mischiefs it drew upon him; but what the innocent and wronged Maria suffered all this time, cannot but excite the pity of every generous reader.

            This lady loved Mr D–– with a tenderness, which is rarely to be met with in these times of gallantry: she had from her very infancy been taught to look upon him, as the man who was one day to be her husband; and her virtue and duty improving the inclination she naturally had for him, she had never indulged herself in those gaieties so many of her sex are fond of; had never listened to the sound of love from any tongue but his, nor had a wish beyond him. He, for his part, had seemed to centre all his hopes and his desires in her, had never given her cause for one uneasy moment on his score, nor did she even know what jealousy meant; till that fatal letter from the wicked Mrs Tricksy awakened in her that poisonous passion, and forced her, all soft and gentle as she was by nature, to experience those furious emotions, which love ill-treated, and confidence abused, never fail to excite. The shock she felt at first reading the malicious intelligence, was greater than her tender frame could well sustain. She strove to disbelieve it, but in vain: the racking idea returned, in spite of all she could do to hinder it; sleeping and waking the hated vision of a rival flashed upon her mind; she painted her in imagination, sometimes kind and consenting to his vows, sometimes reserved and haughty, repaying his inconstancy with scorn; in fine, love, hate, curiosity, and what was more distracting than them all, suspense, made her once tranquil soul a perfect chaos of confusion. Resolving to be satisfied, yet unwilling to make anyone privy to what she felt on the occasion of it, she pretended to Mrs J–– that she would visit a kinswoman at some distance, and where she knew that lady would not offer to accompany her, on account of a little pique between them. She went, indeed, but stayed no longer than one night, and took the stage for London. She let no person into the secret of her arrival, but one who had formerly been a servant in the family, and was now married and kept a house for lodgers: with her did the discontented Maria take up her residence: it was her whom she sent to Greenwich, to enquire concerning Mr D–– and Syrena, and from her she received an account which seemed to confirm the truth of the letter; for Mrs Tricksy had taken care to spread through all that little town, that her daughter was about being married to Mr D––. Being thus, as she imagined, fully assured of the worst that could have been suggested to her, curiosity led her to try all possible methods to gain a sight of the face that had undone her: by the diligence of her faithful emissary, she obtained that too; for Mr D–– being watched to the house where she lodged, Maria afterward went disguised into the neighbourhood, and saw not only her rival, but her ungrateful lover also, with her at the window––killing sight! All the fortitude she had assumed for this adventure, was too little to enable her to endure it. She fell immediately into convulsions, and after into a high fever, which from the very beginning threatened death. The poor creature who had been her confidant, now wished she had been less industrious in obeying orders, which were likely to bring on so fatal a catastrophe; and judging it wholly improper to conceal her any longer, sent to several of her relations, who immediately came to visit her full of surprise, to find she was in town, and had hid herself till her condition made it necessary to disclose the place she was in: nobody, however, questioned her on that head, believing it might increase her disorder; but they failed not to enquire of the woman the motives which had brought her thither, to which the other pleaded ignorance, and kept inviolably the secret committed to her trust; though it did not long remain so; for Maria, growing delirious, so often mentioned the names of Mr D–– and Syrena, that it was easy to believe that something relating to that gentleman, had been the cause both of her strange behaviour, and the condition they now found her in. As they were sensible of the trouble he was in on her account, they thought it best he should be sent for, which he accordingly was, though much against the will of the woman of the house, who feared the sight of him would heighten her fever.

            Mr D–– received the news where Maria was, and of her indisposition, the very morning after he had detected the treachery of Syrena; and not doubting but it was to the pernicious arts of Mrs Tricksy that she owed her illness, flattered himself, that his presence, and a full confession of what had passed, would greatly contribute to her recovery; but he found altogether the reverse; that unhappy lady no sooner saw him in her chamber, than she fell into such agonies, that he was obliged to withdraw: he imputed it, however, to the force of her distemper, and still hoped, that if she came a little to her senses, she would consent both to see him, and hear what he had to say; so ordered a bed to be prepared for him in the same house, that he might be near to watch her intervals of reason, and endeavour to make his peace with her. In the meantime, he was informed by the confidant, of the pains Maria had taken to convince herself of a truth, she had better have been eternally ignorant of; and in relating the steps that had been taken, highly condemned herself for having assisted in the cruel discovery. Mr D–– shook his head, and told her that he wished she had been enough his friend to have given him a private intelligence of Maria's sentiments; though, added he, I cannot blame your acting in the manner you did, as appearances were so much against me.

            Two days had Mr D–– been under the same roof without being able to speak to her; the physicians having ordered she should be kept extremely quiet; but at the end of that time, being, as they thought, somewhat better, the women ventured to acquaint her, who was so near her, and his true remorse for a false step, which youth and inadvertency alone had made him take, and his real innocence as to the main point, that of having any inclination to breaking of with her, or of marrying Syrena. The disconsolate Maria listened attentively to her, without giving any other answer than sighs; and when the other alleged the improbability there was, of his having any settled affection for a girl, such as Syrena, and expatiated on the vileness of both her, and her mother; "So much the more unhappy is my lot," cried Maria, "to be the sacrifice of such wretches. However," continued she, "I will see the still dear and guilty man–let him be called in."

            He threw himself on his knees by her bedside, and said everything that love and repentance could inspire, to assure her, that his heart had never been but hers; however, an unlucky, as well as criminal inclination, had for a small time made him act contrary to his honour and his vows."I believe Mr D––", answered she, "you are now sorry for and ashamed of your acquaintance with Syrena; but, perhaps, it is more owing to the discovery of her baseness, than to your regard for me; and the next new face that pleased you, would have the same influence; at least the passion you have had for her has destroyed all the confidence I had in you. I could not now be happy with you, nor," cried she, in a low voice, "can I live without you." In speaking these words she fainted away; he was obliged to ring for the people to come to her assistance; but all they could do was ineffectual, she dying in less than an hour, and left him, who could not but look upon himself as the cause, in a condition little different from distraction.

            The real affliction Mr D–– was in for this sad accident, made England and the sight of all his friends hateful to him: he embarked in a short time for foreign parts; but before he went, wrote all the particulars of this fatal adventure, and desired it might be made public, as a warning to gentlemen, how they inadvertently are drawn into acquaintance with women of Syrena's character.

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