, and who had offered
him the Reward for betraying her; she likewise ordered the Horses to be in
Readiness by four in the Morning, at which Hour Mrs. Fitzpatrick promised to
bear her Company, and then composing herself as well as she could, she desired
that Lady to continue her Story.
 

                                  Chapter VII

                In which Mrs. Fitzpatrick concludes her History.
 
While Mrs. Honour, in Pursuance of the Commands of her Mistress, ordered a Bowl
of Punch, and invited my Landlord and Landlady to partake of it, Mrs.
Fitzpatrick thus went on with her Relation.
    »Most of the Officers who were quartered at a Town in our Neighbourhood were
of my Husband's Acquaintance. Among these was a Lieutenant, a very pretty Sort
of Man, and who was married to a Woman so agreeable both in her Temper and
Conversation, that from our first knowing each other, which was soon after my
Lying-in, we were almost inseparable Companions; for I had the good Fortune to
make myself equally agreeable to her.
    The Lieutenant, who was neither a Sot nor a Sportsman, was frequently of our
Parties; indeed he was very little with my Husband, and no more than good
Breeding constrained him to be, as he lived almost constantly at our House. My
Husband often expressed much Dissatisfaction at the Lieutenant's preferring my
Company to his; he was very angry with me on that Account, and gave me many a
hearty Curse for drawing away his Companions; saying, I ought to be d-ned for
having spoiled one of the prettiest Fellows in the World, by making a Milk-sop
of him.
    You will be mistaken, my dear Sophia, if you imagine that the Anger of my
Husband arose from my depriving him of a Companion; for the Lieutenant was not a
Person with whose Society a Fool could be pleased; and if I should admit the
Possibility of this, so little Right had my Husband to place the Loss of his
Companion to me, that I am convinced it was my Conversation alone which induced
him ever to come to the House. No, Child, it was Envy, the worst and most
rancorous Kind of Envy, the Envy of Superiority of Understanding. The Wretch
could not bear to see my Conversation preferred to his, by a Man of whom he
could not entertain the least Jealousy. O my dear Sophy, you are a Woman of
Sense; if you marry a Man, as is most probable you will, of less Capacity than
yourself, make frequent Trials of his Temper before Marriage, and see whether he
can bear to
