you force one to believe you. Sure she must be the most contemptible of women who can overlook such merit.”

The manner and look with which all this was spoke, infused a suspicion into Jones, which we don’t care to convey in direct words to the reader. Instead of making any answer, he said, “I am afraid, madam, I have made too tiresome a visit;” and offered to take his leave.

“Not at all, sir,” answered Mrs. Fitzpatrick.—“Indeed I pity you, Mr. Jones; indeed I do: but if you are going, consider of the scheme I have mentioned—I am convinced you will approve it—and let me see you again as soon as you can.—To-morrow morning if you will, or at least some time to-morrow. I shall be at home all day.”

Jones, then, after many expressions of thanks, very respectfully retired; nor could Mrs. Fitzpatrick forbear making him a present of a look at parting, by which if he had understood nothing, he must have had no understanding in the language of the eyes. In reality, it confirmed his resolution of returning to her no more; for, faulty as he hath hitherto appeared in this history, his whole thoughts were now so confined to his Sophia, that I believe no woman upon earth could have now drawn him into an act of inconstancy.

Fortune, however, who was not his friend, resolved, as he intended to give her no second opportunity, to make the best of this; and accordingly produced the tragical incident which we are now in sorrowful notes to record.