Booth embraced her with the most passionate raptures, and, looking on her with inexpressible tenderness, cried, “Upon my soul, I am not worthy of you: I am a fool, and yet you cannot blame me. If the stupid miser hoards, with such care, his worthless treasure--if he watches it with such anxiety--if every apprehension of another’s sharing the least part fills his soul with such agonies--O Amelia! what must be my condition, what terrors must I feel, while I am watching over a jewel of such real, such inestimable worth!” “I can, with great truth, return the compliment,” cries Amelia. “I have my treasure too; and am so much a miser, that no force shall ever tear me from it.” “I am ashamed of my folly,” cries Booth; “and yet it is all from extreme tenderness. Nay, you yourself are the occasion. Why will you ever attempt to keep a secret from me? Do you think I should have resented to my friend his just censure of my conduct?” “What censure, my dear love?” cries Amelia. “Nay, the serjeant hath told me all,” cries Booth--“nay, and that he hath told it to you. Poor soul! thou couldst not endure to hear me accused, though never so justly, and by so good a friend. Indeed, my dear, I have discovered the cause of that resentment to the colonel which you could not hide from me. I love you, I adore you for it; indeed, I could not forgive a slighting word on you. But, why do I compare things so unlike?--what the colonel said of me was just and true; every reflexion on my Amelia must be false and villanous.” The discernment of Amelia was extremely quick, and she now perceived what had happened, and how much her husband knew of the truth. She resolved therefore to humour him, and fell severely on Colonel James for what he had said to the serjeant, which Booth endeavoured all he could to soften; and thus ended this affair, which had brought Booth to the very brink of a discovery which must have given him the highest torment, if it had not produced any of those tragical effects which Amelia apprehended. Chapter vii. _In which the author appears to be master of that profound learning called the knowledge of the town._ Mrs. James now came to pay a morning’s visit to Amelia. She entered the room with her usual gaiety, and after a slight preface, addressing herself to Booth, said she had been quarrelling with her husband on his account. “I know not,” said she, “what he means by thinking of sending you the Lord knows whither. I have insisted on his asking something for you nearer home; and it would be the hardest thing in the world if he should not obtain it. Are we resolved never to encourage merit; but to throw away all our preferments on those who do not deserve them? What a set of contemptible wretches do we see strutting about the town in scarlet!”