Thou rememberest the contents, I suppose, of thy furious letter. Her remarks upon the different parts of it which I read to her, were to the following effect:

Upon thy two first lines, "All undone undone, by Jupiter! Zounds, Jack, what shall I do now! A curse upon all my plots and contrivances !" thus she expressed

herself:

O how light, how unaffected with the sense of its own crimes, is the heart that could dictate to the pen this libertine froth!"

The paragraph which mentions the vile arrest, affected her a good deal.

At that part, "Canst thou, O fatal prognosticator! tell me where my punishments will end?" she sighed and when I came to that sentence, "Praying for my reformation, perhaps❞—is that there? said she, sighing again. Wretched man!—And shed a tear for thee. By my faith, Lovelace, I believe she hates thee not! She has at least a concern, a generous concern, for thy future happiness! What a noble creature hast thou injured!

She made a very severe reflection upon me, on reading these words "On your knees, for me, beg her pardon ❞— You had all your lessons, sir," said she, "when you came to redeem me--you was so condescending as to kneel: I thought it was the effect of your own humanity, and good-natured earnestness to serve me excuse me, sir, I knew not, that it was in consequence of a prescribed lesson."

This concerned me not a little; I could not bear to be thought such a wretched puppet, such a Joseph Leman, such a Tomlinson-I endeavoured therefore, with some warmth, to clear myself of this reflection; and she again asked my excuse: "I was avowedly," she said, "the friend of a man, whose friendship, she had reason to be sorry to say, was no credit to anybody." And desired me to proceed.

I did;

but fared not much better afterwards: for,

On that passage where you say, "I had always been her friend and advocate," this was her unanswerable remark : "I find, sir, by this expression, that he had always designs against me; and that you all along knew that he had: would to heaven, you had had the goodness to have contrived some way, that might not have endangered your own safety, to give me notice of his baseness, since you approved not of it! But you gentlemen, I suppose, had rather see an innocent fellow-creature ruined, than be thought capable of an action, which, however generous, might be likely to loosen the bands of a wicked friendship!"

After this severe, but just reflection, I would have avoided reading the following, although I had unawares begun the sentence (but she held me to it): What would I now give, had I permitted you to have been a successful advocate! And this was her remark upon it-" So, sir, you see, if you had been the happy means of preventing the evils designed me, you would have had your friend's thanks for it, when he came to his consideration. This satisfaction, I am persuaded, every one, in the long run, will enjoy, who has the virtue to withstand, or prevent, a wicked purpose. I was obliged, I see, to your kind wishes -but it was a point of honour with you to keep his secret; the more indispensable with you, perhaps, the viler the secret."

I passed over thy charge to me, to curse them by the hour; and thy names of Dragon and Serpents, though so applicable; since, had I read them, thou must have been supposed to know from the first, what creatures they were; vile fellow as thou wert, for bringing so much purity among them! and I closed with thy own concluding paragraph, a line! a line! a kingdom for a line! &c. However telling her (since she saw that I omitted some sentences) that there were further vehemences in it; but as they were

better fitted to show to me the sincerity of the writer, than for so delicate an ear as hers to hear, I chose to pass them over.

You have read enough, said she-he is a wicked, wicked man-I see he intended to have me in his power at any rate; and I have no doubt of what his purposes were, by what his actions have been. You know his vile Tomlinson, I I suppose you know-but what signifies talking ?-never was there such a premeditatedly false heart in man (nothing can be truer, thought I): what has he not vowed! what has he not invented! and all for what?— only, to ruin a poor young creature, whom he ought to have protected; and whom he had first deprived of all other protection?

She arose, and turned from me, her handkerchief at her eyes and, after a pause, came towards me again—“I hope, said she, I talk to a man who has a better heart: and I thank you, sir, for all your kind, though ineffectual, pleas in my favour formerly, whether the motives for them were compassion, or principle, or both. That they were ineffectual, might very probably be owing to your want of earnestness; and that, as you might think, to my want of merit. I might not, in your eye, deserve to be saved !—I might appear to you a giddy creature, who had run away from her true and natural friends; and who therefore ought to take the consequence of the lot she had

drawn."

I was afraid, for thy sake, to let her know how very earnest I had been: but assured her, that I had been her zealous friend; and that my motives were founded upon a merit, that, I believed, was never equalled: that, however indefensible Mr. Lovelace was, he had always done justice. to her virtue: that to a full conviction of her untainted honour it was owing, that he so earnestly desired to call so inestimable a jewel his—and was proceeding, when she again cut me short

Enough, and too much of this subject, sir!-if he will never more let me behold his face, that is all I have now to ask of him.-Indeed, indeed, clasping her hands, I never will, if I can, by any means not criminally desperate, avoid it.

What could I say for thee?-there was no room, however, at that time, to touch this string again, for fear of bringing upon myself a prohibition, not only of the subject, but of ever attending her again.

It is my opinion (if thou holdest thy purposes to marry) that thou canst not do better, than to procure thy real aunts, and thy real cousins, to pay her a visit, and to be thy advocates: but, if they decline personal visits, letters from them, and from my lord M. supported by Miss Howe's interest, may, perhaps, effect something in thy favour.

But these are only my hopes, founded on what I wish for thy sake. The lady, I really think, would choose rather death than thee: and the two women are of opinion, though they know not half of what she has suffered, that her heart is actually broken.

At taking my leave, I tendered my best services to her, and besought her to permit me frequently to inquire after her health.

She made me no answer, but by bowing her head.

MR. BELFORD TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.

Wednesday, July 19.

HIS morning I took chair to Smith's; and, being told, that the lady had a very bad night, but was

up, I sent for her worthy apothecary; who on his coming to me, approving of my proposal of calling in Dr. H.; I bid the women acquaint her with the designed visit.

It seems, she was at first displeased; yet withdrew her

objection: but, after a pause, asked them, what she should do? she had effects of value, some of which she intended, as soon as she could, to turn into money; but, till then, had not a single guinea to give the doctor for his fee.

Mrs. Lovick said, she had five guineas by her they were at her service.

She would accept of three, she said, if she would take that (pulling a diamond ring from her finger) till she repaid her; but on no other terms.

Having been told, I was below with Mr. Goddard, she desired to speak one word with me, before she saw the doctor.

She was sitting in an elbow-chair, leaning her head on a pillow; Mrs. Smith and the widow on each side her chair; her nurse, with a phial of hartshorn, behind her; in her own hand, her salts.

Raising her head at my entrance, she inquired, if the doctor knew Mr. Lovelace ?

I told her, no; and that I believed you never saw him in your life.

Was the doctor my friend?

He was; and a very worthy and skilful man. I named him for his eminence in his profession and Mr. Goddard said, he knew not a better physician.

I have but one condition to make before I see the gentleman; that he refuse not his fees from me.

If I am poor, sir, I am proud. I will not be under obligation. You may believe, sir, I will not. I suffer this visit, because I would not appear ungrateful to the few friends I have left, nor obstinate to such of my relations, as may some time hence, for their private satisfaction, inquire after my behaviour in my sick hours. So, sir, you know the condition. And don't let me be vexed: I am very ill; and cannot debate the matter.

Seeing her so determined, I told her, if it must be so, it should.