You desire an account of what passes between me and my friends; and also particulars or brief heads of my sad story, in order to serve me as occasion shall offer.  My dear good Mrs. Norton, you shall have a whole packet of papers, which I have sent to my Miss Howe, when she returns them; and you shall have likewise another packet, (and that with this letter,) which I cannot at present think of sending to that dear friend for the sake of my own relations; whom, without seeing that packet, she is but too ready to censure heavily.  From these you will be able to collect a great deal of my story.  But for what is previous to these papers, and which more particularly relates to what I have suffered from Mr. Lovelace, you must have patience; for at present I have neither head nor heart for such subjects.  The papers I send you with this will be those mentioned in the margin.* You must restore them to me as soon as perused; and upon your honour make no use of them, or of any intelligence you have from me, but by my previous consent.

* 1.  A copy of mine to my sister, begging
off my father’s malediction . . . . . .  dated July 21.
2.  My sister’s answer . . . . . . . . . . .  dated July 27.
3.  Copy of my second letter to my sister. .  dated July 29.
4.  My sister’s answer . . . . . . . . . . .  dated Aug. 3.
5.  Copy of my Letter to my mother . . . . .  dated Aug. 5.
6.  My uncle Harlowe’s letter  . . . . . . .  dated Aug. 7.
7.  Copy of my answer to it  . . . . . . . .  dated the 1oth.
8.  Letter from my uncle Antony  . . . . . .  dated the 12th.
9.  And lastly, the copy of my answer to it.  dated the 13th.

These communications you must not, my good Mrs. Norton, look upon as appeals against my relations.  On the contrary, I am heartily sorry that they have incurred the displeasure of so excellent a divine as Dr. Lewen.  But you desire to have every thing before you:  and I think you ought; for who knows, as you say, but you may be applied to at last to administer comfort from their conceding hearts, to one that wants it; and who sometimes, judging by what she knows of her own heart, thinks herself entitled to it?

I know that I have a most indulgent and sweet-tempered mother; but, having to deal with violent spirits, she has too often forfeited that peace of mind which she so much prefers, by her over concern to preserve it.

I am sure she would not have turned me over for an answer to a letter written with so contrite and fervent a spirit, as was mine to her, to a masculine spirit, had she been left to herself.

But, my dear Mrs. Norton, might not, think you, the revered lady have favoured me with one private line?——­If not, might not you have written by her order, or connivance, one softening, one motherly line, when she saw her poor girl, whom once she dearly loved, borne so hard upon?

O no, she might not!—­because her heart, to be sure, is in their measures! and if she think them right, perhaps they must be right!—­at least, knowing only what they know, they must!—­and yet they might know all, if they would!—­and possibly, in their own good time, they think to make proper inquiry.—­My application was made to them but lately.—­Yet how deeply will it afflict them, if their time should be out of time!