 ones, of my tenderest affection.

My sister Selwyn and Lucy will, I hope, forgive me, when I own, that even from my boyish days, Emma has been the darling of my fondness: but had I never known a partial regard for her till the present time, I should have felt it now.—She is unhappy!—Thank heaven! my other sisters are not so.
Lady Juliana too—where can she be fled! wherefore should she fly! or why conceal the place of her retreat from her loved friend, your wife!
Sir James Desmond is—what I have ever thought him. I will allow that our affections are not always in our power, they may change from the most charming to the most odious object; but a man of honour will not add insult to injury, and triumph over the heart that he has wronged.

I think with you that violent means will not recall a wandering affection, and sure I am that Emma's gentle spirit will suffer all her husband can inflict in silent sadness; she will not reproach him, nor wound his ears with her complainings; her tears will flow in secret, their traces may perhaps be seen on her pale cheek, and by her husband's conscious heart, they may be deemed upbraidings.
It is extremely fortunate that I am not in London; I could not with patience have endured the scene you saw at Sir James Desmond's—How dare he bring his paramour into the presence of his wife? 'Tis past conjecture, Stanley; I have no doubts of their infamous connection. You say he is neither a fool nor brute, and therefore we may hope for his reformation—that is, when his vitiated taste grows sick and weary of his present folly, he will behave less cruelly

to his wife, from conscious shame of having used her ill. But can the heart return when once estranged? can she have that unbounded confidence in his affection, which constitutes the charm of wedded love? Will she not fear a second change of his affection, and can she look with fond respect upon the man who has taught her to think slightly of him? Impossible! The human heart was formed to feel, and when oppressed by unmerited sufferings, it will resent. Time's lenient power will no doubt abate the keen anguish of disappointed love—Its cure at length is found in cold indifference, and she who had a right to hope for happiness, gladly compounds for ease. Such is the state of many a female heart; no wonder then if it should sometimes stray, and when rejected by its lawful lord, seek consolation
