’In short, I was beloved by every body.  The poor—­I used to make glad their hearts:  I never shut my hand to any distress, wherever I was—­but now I am poor myself!

’So Mrs. Smith, so Mrs. Lovick, I am not married.  It is but just to tell you so.  And I am now, as I ought to be, in a state of humiliation and penitence for the rash step which has been followed by so much evil.  God, I hope, will forgive me, as I am endeavouring to bring my mind to forgive all the world, even the man who has ungratefully, and by dreadful perjuries, [poor wretch! he thought all his wickedness to be wit!] reduced to this a young creature, who had his happiness in her view, and in her wish, even beyond this life; and who was believed to be of rank, and fortune, and expectations, considerable enough to make it the interest of any gentleman in England to be faithful to his vows to her.  But I cannot expect that my parents will forgive me:  my refuge must be death; the most painful kind of which I would suffer, rather than be the wife of one who could act by me, as the man has acted, upon whose birth, education, and honour, I had so much reason to found better expectations.

’I see, continued she, that I, who once was every one’s delight, am now the cause of grief to every one—­you, that are strangers to me, are moved for me! ’tis kind!—­but ’tis time to stop.  Your compassionate hearts, Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Lovick, are too much touched,’ [For the women sobbed, and the man was also affected.] ’It is barbarous in me, with my woes, thus to sadden your wedding-day.’  Then turning to Mr. and Mrs. Smith—­ ’May you see many happy ones, honest, good couple!—­how agreeable is it to see you both join so kindly to celebrate it, after many years are gone over you!—­I once—­but no more!—­All my prospects of felicity, as to this life, are at an end.  My hopes, like opening buds or blossoms in an over-forward spring, have been nipt by a severe frost!—­blighted by an eastern wind!—­but I can but once die; and if life be spared me, but till I am discharged from a heavy malediction, which my father in his wrath laid upon me, and which is fulfilled literally in every article relating to this world; that, and a last blessing, are all I have to wish for; and death will be welcomer to me, than rest to the most wearied traveller that ever reached his journey’s end.’

And then she sunk her head against the back of her chair, and, hiding her face with her handkerchief, endeavoured to conceal her tears from us.

Not a soul of us could speak a word.  Thy presence, perhaps, thou hardened wretch, might have made us ashamed of a weakness which perhaps thou wilt deride me in particular for, when thou readest this!——­

She retired to her chamber soon after, and was forced, it seems, to lie down.  We all went down together; and, for an hour and a half, dwelt upon her praises; Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Lovick repeatedly expressing their astonishment, that there could be a man in the world, capable of offending, much more of wilfully injuring such a lady; and repeating, that they had an angel in their house.—­I thought they had; and that as assuredly as there is a devil under the roof of good Lord M.