‘I had one evening strayed, with a book in my hand, into a wood that bordered on the high road, at a little distance from my father’s house, when a certain drunken squire, riding by, perceived me, and crying, “Holloa, there’s a charming creature!” alighted in a moment, caught me in his arms, and treated me so rudely that I shrieked as loud as I could, and in the meantime opposed his violence with all the strength that rage and resentment could inspire. During this struggle, another horseman came up, who, seeing a lady so unworthily used, dismounted, and flew to my assistance. The squire, mad with disappointment, or provoked with the reproaches of the other gentleman, quitted me, and running to his horse, drew a pistol from the saddle, and fired it at my protector, who happily receiving no damage, went up, and, with the butt-end of his whip laid him prostrate on the ground before he could use the other, which his antagonist immediately seized, and, clapping to the squire’s breast, threatened to put him to death for his cowardice and treachery. In this dilemma I interposed and begged his life, which was granted to my request, after he had asked pardon, and swore his intention was only to obtain a kiss. However, my defender thought proper to unload the other pistol, and throw away the flints, before he gave him his liberty. This courteous stranger conducted me home, where my father having learned the signal service he had done me, loaded him with caresses, and insisted on his lodging that night at our house. If the obligation he had conferred upon me justly inspired me with sentiments of gratitude, his appearance and conversation seemed to entitle him to somewhat more. He was about the age of two-and-twenty, among the tallest of the middle size; had chestnut-coloured hair, which he wore tied up in a ribbon; a high polished forehead, a nose inclining to the aquiline, lively blue eyes, red pouting lips, teeth as white as snow, and a certain openness of countenance—but why need I describe any more particulars of his person? I hope you will do me the justice to believe I do not flatter, when I say he was the exact resemblance of you; and if I had not been well acquainted with his family and degree, I should have made no scruple of concluding that you was his brother. He spoke and seemed to have no reserve: for what he said was ingenuous, sensible, and uncommon. “In short,” said she, bursting into tears, “he was formed for the ruin of our sex. His behaviour was modest and respectful, but his looks were so significant, that I could easily observe he secretly blessed the occasion that introduced him to my acquaintance. We learned from his discourse that he was the eldest son of a wealthy gentleman in the neighbourhood, to whose name we were no strangers—that he had been to visit an acquaintance in the country, from whose house he was returning home, when my shrieks brought him to my rescue.”