In which the reader will be surprized Mr. Jones was rather earlier than the time appointed, and earlier than the lady; whose arrival was hindered, not only by the distance of the place where she dined, but by some other cross accidents very vexatious to one in her situation of mind. He was accordingly shown into the drawing-room, where he had not been many minutes before the door opened, and in came-- no other than Sophia herself, who had left the play before the end of the first act; for this, as we have already said, being a new play, at which two large parties met, the one to damn, and the other to applaud, a violent uproar, and an engagement between the two parties, had so terrified our heroine, that she was glad to put herself under the protection of a young gentleman, who safely conveyed her to her chair.

As Lady Bellaston had acquainted her that she should not be at home till late, Sophia, expecting to find no one in the room, came hastily in, and went directly to a glass which almost fronted her, without once looking towards the upper end of the room, where the statue of Jones now stood motionless.- In this glass it was, after contemplating her own lovely face, that she first discovered the said statue; when, instantly turning about, she perceived the reality of the vision: upon which she gave a violent scream, and scarce preserved herself from fainting, till Jones was able to move to her, and support her in his arms.

To paint the looks or thoughts of either of these lovers, is beyond my power. As their sensations, from their mutual silence, may be judged to have been too big for their own utterance, it cannot be supposed that I should be able to express them: and the misfortune is, that few of my readers have been enough in love to feel by their own hearts what past at this time in theirs.

After a short pause, Jones, with faultering accents, said- "I see, madam, you are surprized."- "Surprized!" answered she; "Oh heavens!

Indeed, I am surprized. I almost doubt whether you are the person you seem."- "Indeed," cries she, "my Sophia, pardon me, madam, for this once calling you so, I am that very wretched Jones, whom fortune, after so many disappointments, hath, at last, kindly conducted to you.

Oh! my Sophia, did you know the thousand torments I have suffered in this long, fruitless pursuit."- "Pursuit of whom?" said Sophia, a little recollecting herself, and assuming a reserve air.- "Can you be so cruel to ask that question?" cries Jones; "Need I say, of you?" "Of me! answered Sophia: "Hath Mr. Jones, then, any such important business with me?"- "To some, madam," cries Jones, "this might seem an important business" (giving her the pocket-book), "I hope, madam, you will find it of the same value as when it was lost." Sophia took the pocket-book, and was going to speak, when he interrupted her thus:- "Let us not, I beseech you, lose one of these precious moments which fortune hath so kindly sent us. O, my Sophia! I have business of a much superior kind. Thus, on my knees, let me ask your pardon."- "My pardon!" cries she; "Sure, sir, after what is past, you cannot expect, after what I have heard."- "I scarce know what I say," answered Jones.