History of Tom Jones, a Foundling

by Henry Fielding

  Chapter vi.

  In which Mrs Miller pays a visit to Sophia.

  Access to the young lady was by no means difficult; for, as she livednow on a perfect friendly footing with her aunt, she was at fullliberty to receive what visitants she pleased.

  Sophia was dressing when she was acquainted that there was agentlewoman below to wait on her. As she was neither afraid, norashamed, to see any of her own sex, Mrs Miller was immediatelyadmitted.

  Curtsies and the usual ceremonials between women who are strangers toeach other, being past, Sophia said, "I have not the pleasure to knowyou, madam." "No, madam," answered Mrs Miller, "and I must beg pardonfor intruding upon you. But when you know what has induced me to giveyou this trouble, I hope----" "Pray, what is your business, madam?"said Sophia, with a little emotion. "Madam, we are not alone," repliedMrs Miller, in a low voice. "Go out, Betty," said Sophia.

  When Betty was departed, Mrs Miller said, "I was desired, madam, by avery unhappy young gentleman, to deliver you this letter." Sophiachanged colour when she saw the direction, well knowing the hand, andafter some hesitation, said--"I could not conceive, madam, from yourappearance, that your business had been of such a nature.--Whomeveryou brought this letter from, I shall not open it. I should be sorryto entertain an unjust suspicion of any one; but you are an utterstranger to me."

  "If you will have patience, madam," answered Mrs Miller, "I willacquaint you who I am, and how I came by that letter." "I have nocuriosity, madam, to know anything," cries Sophia; "but I must insiston your delivering that letter back to the person who gave it you."

  Mrs Miller then fell upon her knees, and in the most passionate termsimplored her compassion; to which Sophia answered: "Sure, madam, it issurprizing you should be so very strongly interested in the behalf ofthis person. I would not think, madam"--"No, madam," says Mrs Miller,"you shall not think anything but the truth. I will tell you all, andyou will not wonder that I am interested. He is the best-naturedcreature that ever was born."--She then began and related the story ofMr Anderson.--After this she cried, "This, madam, this is hisgoodness; but I have much more tender obligations to him. He hathpreserved my child."--Here, after shedding some tears, she relatedeverything concerning that fact, suppressing only those circumstanceswhich would have most reflected on her daughter, and concluded withsaying, "Now, madam, you shall judge whether I can ever do enough forso kind, so good, so generous a young man; and sure he is the best andworthiest of all human beings."

  The alterations in the countenance of Sophia had hitherto been chieflyto her disadvantage, and had inclined her complexion to too greatpaleness; but she now waxed redder, if possible, than vermilion, andcried, "I know not what to say; certainly what arises from gratitudecannot be blamed--But what service can my reading this letter do yourfriend, since I am resolved never----" Mrs Miller fell again to herentreaties, and begged to be forgiven, but she could not, she said,carry it back. "Well, madam," says Sophia, "I cannot help it, if youwill force it upon me.--Certainly you may leave it whether I will orno." What Sophia meant, or whether she meant anything, I will notpresume to determine; but Mrs Miller actually understood this as ahint, and presently laying the letter down on the table, took herleave, having first begged permission to wait again on Sophia; whichrequest had neither assent nor denial.

  The letter lay upon the table no longer than till Mrs Miller was outof sight; for then Sophia opened and read it.

  This letter did very little service to his cause; for it consisted oflittle more than confessions of his own unworthiness, and bitterlamentations of despair, together with the most solemn protestationsof his unalterable fidelity to Sophia, of which, he said, he hoped toconvince her, if he had ever more the honour of being admitted to herpresence; and that he could account for the letter to Lady Bellastonin such a manner, that, though it would not entitle him to herforgiveness, he hoped at least to obtain it from her mercy. Andconcluded with vowing that nothing was ever less in his thoughts thanto marry Lady Bellaston.

  Though Sophia read the letter twice over with great attention, hismeaning still remained a riddle to her; nor could her inventionsuggest to her any means to excuse Jones. She certainly remained veryangry with him, though indeed Lady Bellaston took up so much of herresentment, that her gentle mind had but little left to bestow on anyother person.

  That lady was most unluckily to dine this very day with her auntWestern, and in the afternoon they were all three, by appointment, togo together to the opera, and thence to Lady Thomas Hatchet's drum.Sophia would have gladly been excused from all, but would notdisoblige her aunt; and as to the arts of counterfeiting illness, shewas so entirely a stranger to them, that it never once entered intoher head. When she was drest, therefore, down she went, resolved toencounter all the horrors of the day, and a most disagreeable one itproved; for Lady Bellaston took every opportunity very civilly andslily to insult her; to all which her dejection of spirits disabledher from making any return; and, indeed, to confess the truth, she wasat the very best but an indifferent mistress of repartee.

  Another misfortune which befel poor Sophia was the company of LordFellamar, whom she met at the opera, and who attended her to the drum.And though both places were too publick to admit of anyparticularities, and she was farther relieved by the musick at the oneplace, and by the cards at the other, she could not, however, enjoyherself in his company; for there is something of delicacy in women,which will not suffer them to be even easy in the presence of a manwhom they know to have pretensions to them which they are disinclinedto favour.

  Having in this chapter twice mentioned a drum, a word which ourposterity, it is hoped, will not understand in the sense it is hereapplied, we shall, notwithstanding our present haste, stop a moment todescribe the entertainment here meant, and the rather as we can in amoment describe it.

  A drum, then, is an assembly of well-dressed persons of both sexes,most of whom play at cards, and the rest do nothing at all; while themistress of the house performs the part of the landlady at an inn, andlike the landlady of an inn prides herself in the number of herguests, though she doth not always, like her, get anything by it.

  No wonder then, as so much spirits must be required to support anyvivacity in these scenes of dulness, that we hear persons of fashioneternally complaining of the want of them; a complaint confinedentirely to upper life. How insupportable must we imagine this roundof impertinence to have been to Sophia at this time; how difficultmust she have found it to force the appearance of gaiety into herlooks, when her mind dictated nothing but the tenderest sorrow, andwhen every thought was charged with tormenting ideas!

  Night, however, at last restored her to her pillow, where we willleave her to soothe her melancholy at least, though incapable we fearof rest, and shall pursue our history, which, something whispers us,is now arrived at the eve of some great event.