 my immediately setting out on my travels; a command, which in my present situation, I find myself obliged to comply with. I feel,

with the most poinant sorrow and remorse, for that condition to which our ill fated love has reduced the loveliest of her sex. I would therefore endeavour, if possible, to conceal the shame which the world arbitrarily affixes to it. With this view I have laid aside all selfish considerations so much, as to yield to the suit of Mr. Camplin that hand, which I had once the happiness of expecting for myself. This step, the exigency of your present circumstance• renders highly eligible, if your affections can bend themselves to a man, of whose honour and good qualities I have had the strongest proofs, and who has generosity enough to impute no crime to that ardency of the noblest passion of the mind, which has subjected you to the obloquy of the undiscerning multitude. As Mrs. Camplin, you will possess the love and affection of that worthiest of my friends, together with the warmest esteem and regard of your unfortunate, but ever devoted, humble servant,
THOMAS SINDALL.

Camplin was about to offer his commentary upon this letter; but Harriet, whose spirits had just supported her to the end of it, lay now lifeless at his feet. After several successive faintings, from which Camplin, the landlady, and other assistants, with difficulty recovered her, a shower of tears came at last to her relief, and she became able to articulate some short exclamations of horror and despair! Camplin threw himself on his knees before her. He protested the most sincere and disinterested passion; and that, if she would bless him with the possession of so many amiable qualities as she possessed, the uniform endeavour of his life should be to promote her happiness. — "I think not of thee," she exclaimed; "Oh! Sindall! persidious, cruel, deliberate villain!" Camplin again interrupted her, with protestations of his own affection and regard.
"Away! said she, and let me hear no more! Or, if thou wouldst show thy friendship, carry me to that father from whom thou didst steal me.—You will not—but if I can live so long, I will crawl to his feet, and expire before him." She was running towards the door; Camplin gently stopt her.
"My dearest Miss Annesly, said he, recollect yourself but a moment; let me conjure you to think of your own welfare, and of that father's whom you so justly love. For these alone could sir Thomas
