She then asked my mother if Mr Faulkland had acquainted her with her real name, or that of her relation. My mother, who had once or twice called her by the name of Jefferis, assured her he had not. That was generous in him, said she; he _can_ be generous in _some_ points. But I have no reason to conceal it from so prudent and worthy a lady as you are; my real name is Burchell; that of my cruel relation I will forbear to mention, out of respect to my good uncle, whose wife she is. Mr Faulkland, she added, left a Bill of five hundred pounds with his housekeeper, to provide every thing for me that I should want; with assurances that he would take the tenderest care of--the poor young creature hesitated, and could proceed no farther; but my mother said she understood her meaning. They had a good deal more discourse: my mother promised to see her often during her confinement, and took her leave. She tells me, she is extremely pretty, and has such an air of innocence and simplicity, as very much engages one in her favour. I have set down this whole conversation, with every other particular, exactly as my mother related it. She, who has a most circumstantial memory, repeated it word for word; and I, from a custom of throwing upon paper every thing that occurs to me, have habituated myself to retain the minutest things. I know not, my dear, whether you will be of my opinion; but I cannot help thinking, that there was something like art in Miss Burchell's behaviour, far from that candour which Mr Faulkland seemed to expect from her. My mother mentioned the _pains_ that she supposed had been taken to _seduce_ her; her deep blush at this hint, makes me suspect that her answer was not dictated by sincerity. She saw my mother was not acquainted with the particulars, and that she was willing to pass a favourable judgment on her fault; it looks to me as if she laid hold of this prejudice--and yet she _owned_ that Mr Faulkland had never promised to marry her--I know not what to think; but there appears to me, upon the whole, something evasive and disingenuous in her conduct. My mother, who is all openness and integrity, saw it not in this light. But be it as it may, it is no longer of any consequence to me, which was most to blame, the gentleman or the lady: Miss Burchell is certainly the injured Person; perhaps I too may have wronged her in my surmises; if I have, I beg her pardon; the observations I have made on her behaviour are only _en passant_, and I do from my heart wish Mr Faulkland would make her his wife. You may perceive, from what I have told you, how little this interview was likely to produce in Mr Faulkland's favour, had it even been brought about sooner. My mother is now more than ever confirmed in her opinion, that the poor young creature has been deceived; and she prays, that Mr Faulkland may not be overtaken with a judgment, which she thinks nothing but his marrying the girl can avert. _November 10_