Mrs. James now behaved herself so very unlike the person that she lately appeared, that it might have surprized any one who doth not know that besides that of a fine lady, which is all mere art and mummery, every such woman hath some real character at the bottom, in which, whenever nature gets the better of her, she acts. Thus the finest ladies in the world will sometimes love, and sometimes scratch, according to their different natural dispositions, with great fury and violence, though both of these are equally inconsistent with a fine lady’s artificial character. Mrs. James then was at the bottom a very good-natured woman, and the moment she heard of Amelia’s misfortune was sincerely grieved at it. She had acquiesced on the very first motion with the colonel’s design of inviting her to her house; and this morning at breakfast, when he had acquainted her that Amelia made some difficulty in accepting the offer, very readily undertook to go herself and persuade her friend to accept the invitation. She now pressed this matter with such earnestness, that Amelia, who was not extremely versed in the art of denying, was hardly able to refuse her importunity; nothing, indeed, but her affection to Mrs. Atkinson could have prevailed on her to refuse; that point, however, she would not give up, and Mrs. James, at last, was contented with a promise that, as soon as their affairs were settled, Amelia, with her husband and family, would make her a visit, and stay some time with her in the country, whither she was soon to retire. Having obtained this promise, Mrs. James, after many very friendly professions, took her leave, and, stepping into her coach, reassumed the fine lady, and drove away to join her company at an auction. The moment she was gone Mrs. Atkinson, who had left the room upon the approach of Mrs. James, returned into it, and was informed by Amelia of all that had past. “Pray, madam,” said Mrs. Atkinson, “do this colonel and his lady live, as it is called, well together?” “If you mean to ask,” cries Amelia, “whether they are a very fond couple, I must answer that I believe they are not.” “I have been told,” says Mrs. Atkinson, “that there have been instances of women who have become bawds to their own husbands, and the husbands pimps for them.” “Fie upon it!” cries Amelia. “I hope there are no such people. Indeed, my dear, this is being a little too censorious.” “Call it what you please,” answered Mrs. Atkinson; “it arises from my love to you and my fears for your danger. You know the proverb of a burnt child; and, if such a one hath any good-nature, it will dread the fire on the account of others as well as on its own. And, if I may speak my sentiments freely, I cannot think you will be in safety at this colonel’s house.”