Page:Maria, or, The wanderer reclaim'd.pdf/11

Rh I have often ſince ſeen many ſuch, deplorable to behold, in the ſtreets of this city. Mr. G**told me, “That he was an aſſiſtant to the pariſh curate’s aſſiſtant; and, as his pay was but ſmall, his wigs could not be expected to abound with curl, nor his gowns with blackneſs. But that his poverty made no difference; the ceremony was as valid, when performed by him, as by the beſt-powdered dean, or moſt downy doctor in England.” —Mr. G**’s good humour and ſprightlineſs, which I attributed to his paſſion, diſpelled every idea of doubt or apprehenſion from my breaſt: the mumbling prieſt muttered over the ceremony; my maid and Mr. G**’s man were our attendants; the prieſt was diſmiſſed; reluctance was more; and, we were for I had no conſciouſneſs of guilt— we were moſt bleſt.

Mr. G** continued faithful and fond: but I muſt freely confeſs I was far from happy, ſaving when my ſadder reflections were diſſipated by his company, which I rarely enjoyed till the evening. The remembrance of my parents haunted me continually; and though wrote to let them know I was well, ſafe, and married, yet I wanted ſomething more; I wanted to ſee them and be reconciled. This Mr. G** convinced me was impoſſible; for I now was informed by him, that his own was a ſtate of perfect dependance; that an uncle,