, for her release.
I wrote to my brother, who is now at Naples, in a very ambiguous stile, hinting as if I had heard some vague report of Delia's being alive; for I durst not trust him with the mighty joy at once,

as I have been told that the sudden effects of that passion have sometimes been as fatal in their consequences, as those of grief.
I then informed him of my intention of going to Paris; and said, as I knew all places were indifferent to him, I hoped he would have galantry enough to meet me there, as the pleasure I promised myself in seeing him, was the principal cause of my undertaking the journey.
The moment of my arrival at St. Omers, I was met by Mrs. Walter: I need not describe to you the effects of our interview.—I flatter myself that she looks better than she did: she says the joy she feels at having been, though accidentally,

the instrument of good to the amiable Delia, has roused her spirits from the torpid state they had continued in, while she considered herself but as an useless burthen, or, at best, an insignificant blank, in life.
She told me she had not had an opportunity of seeing Miss Colville since she received my letter, but at prayers; that she had endeavoured to render her looks as expressive as possible, by the chearfulness of her air; and that Delia seemed to understand the hint in her favour. She advised me not to go to the convent, as it was certain that I should not be permitted to see Miss Colville; and her hearing that I had been there, might throw her off her guard, so far, as to alarm the nuns, and make them confine

her still more closely, or perhaps, tranfer her, as is sometimes the case, over to some other convent.
I was convinced by her reasons, and, restraining my fond impatience, I set out the next morning for Paris, where I arrived last night, and have the mortification to learn, this morning, that Mrs. Colville is gone to Toulouse, as it is thought, to settle there.—The lord chancellor's messenger is gone off post to her; and here must I remain till his return.
And now let me assure my Louisa, that not even the joy I feel at the certainty of Delia's restoration, can prevent me for a moment from sympathizing, in the tenderest manner, with her distress;

the circumstances of which are certainly equally difficult and mortifying.
There never was
