 my vanity inspired me with the fond hope of having obtained some small share in her friendship and esteem—How I have forfeited this blessing I know not; but it now is fled, my friend, and with it all my happiness.
I have been, for some time past, at the seat of Sir Arthur Ashford; you must remember him at college; he has a sister, who is both handsome and agreeable; and had I a disengaged heart, I know no woman to whom I would sooner offer my hand—But never shall I be guilty of such, baseness, as to defraud an innocent and amiable woman of her affections, while, like a wretched bankrupt, I have not an equivalent to make.

The circumstance of Miss Ashford's living with her brother, will prevent my spending as much of my time with him as I could wish.—The world will be apt to suppose that her attractions might have drawn me thither, and this may possibly prevent a real and deserving lover from making his addresses there—I will, therefore, speedily retire to my own seat, to solitude and sorrow.
You are incapable of forming any idea of the charming, delicate, but distracted situation of my mind—May happier days be yours! Adieu,
my friend,
LUCAN.



Southfield.
YES, Fanny, I confess it! you have searched my bosom, and found the arrow rankling in my heart! Too cruel sister! better, sure far better, that you had remained ignorant of my disease, unless you can prescribe a cure! I now detest myself; and all that generous confidence, which is the true result and firm support of real virtue, is for ever fled! I shrink even from the mild eye of friendship—The tender, the affectionate looks of Harriet and Lucy, now distress me! How then shall I endure the stern expression of contempt and rage, from an offended husband's angry brow! There is but one thing

that could be more dreadful—I mean his kindness—That alone could add new horrors to my wretched state, and make me feel the humiliating situation of a criminal still more than I now do.
I am, I am a criminal! Alas! you know not to what degree I am so! But I will tell you all, lay bare my heart before you, and beg you not to soothe, but probe its wounds.
At about a quarter of a mile from our house, there is an octagon temple, which overlooks a fine piece of water, adjoining to which there is a beautiful and extensive wood; this room then, I have fitted up in a very elegant
