seemed to demand his pity for a wretch doomed to be punished for an involuntary and guiltless act.
He would have gone in person, the next morning, to Mr. W—, in order to have justified my character, as far as it related to the scandal then cast upon it, with regard to him, but was restrained from the attempt by Matilda's saying that this would only make the matter worse, in all probability; that the interfering between man and wife was a dangerous measure in any person whatsoever,

but that the lover, the very cause of the contention, must certainly be the most improper mediator in their reconcilement, that could possibly be imagined.
She, therefore, advised him to wait with patience, till passion, on the husband's part, might become calm enough to listen to reason, and that resentment peculiarly natural to a wife, suspected in the wrong place, (this was her expression) should have somewhat subsided, and then promised him to undertake the interposition herself, at the proper crisis, probably to better effect than it could be engaged in, even by her, during the present violence of the parties.
He stayed at Bath while I remained there, and suffered an anxiety which increased

more and more, every day, a• by mixing with the company at th• Rooms, but more particularly with th• residents of the place, among whom m• late adventure was publicly talked o• he heard every one take my part, an• vindicate my innocence, from their for+mer knowledge and general good opi+nion of my character and conduct, eve• since I had first become an inhabitan• of that city.
In fine, he heard it agreed upon, o• all sides, that Mr. W— could have n• other foundation for his jealousy of m• except that sort of suspicion which is na+turally apt to arise from too great a di•+parity in years, especially in the breast o• a man, who had had but little acquain•+ance with any women, except those of • profligate character.

These fair reports in my favour, he said, began soon to convince him of Matilda's treachery, and he reproached her with it warmly one day; when with the greatest sang froid imaginable, she answered him in these very words,
"There is no such thing as eleemosynary wisdom in this life, let philosophers and pedagogues say what they will—experience must be purchased at our own proper cost, and not at the expence of others—From this warning you will be taught sufficient sense to know, for the future, that to make a woman the confidant of her rival, is appointing a wolf to