 come here!—Never was any creature so altered in the time.—Sir William will certainly perceive the change; and how shall I account for it?

It is done, my sister! I have taken an everlasting leave of Lord Lucan!—I will copy what I have written—How infinitely short does it fall of what I wished to say!
To Lord LUCAN.
My Lord,
PERFECTLY sensible, as I am, of the faultiness of my conduct, both towards you and myself, I submit, without repining, to the censure implied in your letter—But, alas! my Lord, the crime I am there charged with, is not the source of my self-condemnation.—That you may be perfectly convinced of my sincerity, I will confess that I saw your growing passion, from its earliest infancy, and, at the same time, beheld you in the most favourable light;—yet I vainly

hoped, that, situated as I then was, my virtue would have been proof, even against your merit, and my sense of it;—and that the knowing my heart ought to be devoted to another, was sufficient to render it so.—How have I since blushed at that presumption, which was founded, not in strength, but weakness.
From the moment that the accidental circumstance of the picture, at Southfield, had brought on a confession of our mutual sentiments, peace has been a stranger to my breast! a consciousness of the irrevocable injury I had been guilty of, towards a person I dare not even name, at present, has haunted me ever since.

The constant perturbation of my mind, with other mortifications arising from the same source, brought on a dangerous illness, which led me a willing victim almost to the grave. I now rejoice that what I then most ardently desired, was not the consequence of the joint disorder, both of heart, and mind, and body.
Yes, my Lord, I wish to live, that my future conduct may atone for my past folly; and that the example of the weakest of the weaker sex, may enable you to conquer a passion, which, if indulged, must be productive of misery only, both to yourself, and its unhappy object.
I will not boast, my Lord, that I have already accomplished this arduous task.

—My nature is sincere;—but, as a proof, that I mean seriously to succeed in the attempt, I, from this moment, interdict myself from ever corresponding or conversing with your Lordship more; and do here declare, that I will never pardon your attempting either to see,
