 passion has not been able to procure his peace! yet this is the sole prospect, this the compounding hope, of such a wretch as I!
Harriet has seen her uncle every day; and, in consequence of their conversations, I have written to him twice—He

seems much affected while he reads my letters, and yet returns again to his unjust suspicions—Colonel Walter's letter has been delivered to him; he inquired whether I knew who it came from, and upon Harriet's telling him I did, he replied, that has more weight with me than all that she has protested under her hand—There is, yet at least, some virtue in her.
Indeed, my sister, were I not convinced it is my duty to calm Sir William's mind, I could, with the utmost composure, submit to, and sink under, the cruel calumny thrown out against me—The world, and all that it contains, seems to recede from my now feeble grasp—The dejection of my spirits has diffused an universal languor through

my whole frame, and some blessed intelligence whispers me, that soon, very soon, this poor torn heart will be at peace! surely, my Fanny, you will, you ought, I mean, rejoice, at my deliverance!
I am glad of your happiness, of my brother's, and of every one's; I could at this moment rejoice in a certainty of my being the only wretched creature upon earth.—I wish I could prevent your sending a thought, or a sigh, this way! your sorrow for my misery can but increase it—Strive to forget it, then, perhaps I may yet do so too—But never shall I cease to remember, that I am
your truly affectionate sister. L. BARTON.



WOULD you believe it, Lucan, I am become a philosopher! and that by the worst of all possible means, experience—I find there is no such thing as permanent happiness, for in the very moment that I looked down with pity upon kings, my cup has been dashed with a good smart dose of coloquintida.
For some time before my marriage, both Sir George Cleveland and I observed that my dear Fanny was frequently dejected, and melancholy; but whenever we seemed to take notice of this indisposition of mind, she attributed it to the change of climate, and immediately assumed an air of chearfulness.

For my own part, I sometimes thought that her uneasiness might proceed from a recollection of my former conduct, and therefore endeavoured to dissipate her suspicions, by every mark of the sincerest attachment—I flattered myself I had succeeded, as she had
