The bishop of Nocera had offered to meet me any where on his side of the mountains.  I wrote to him from Lyons, that I hoped to see him at Parma, on or about the very day that I was so fortunate as to reach the palace of the Count of Belvedere in that city; where I found, that he and Father Marescotti had arrived the evening before.  They, as well as the count, expressed great joy to see me; and when I presented Mr. Lowther to them, with the praises due to his skill, and let them know the consultations I had had with eminent physicians of my own country on Lady Clementina’s case, they invoked blessings upon us both, and would not be interrupted in them by my eager questions after the health and state of mind of the two dearest persons of their family.—­Unhappy! very unhappy! said the bishop.  Let us give you some refreshment, before we come to particulars.

To my repeated inquiries, Jeronymo, poor Jeronymo! said the bishop, is living, and that is all we can say.—­The sight of you will be a cordial to his heart.  Clementina is on her journey to Bologna from Naples.  You desired to find her with us, and not at Naples.  She is weak; is obliged to travel slowly.  She will rest at Urbino two or three days.  Dear creature!  What has she not suffered from the cruelty of her cousin Laurana, as well as from her malady!  The general has been, and is, indulgent to her.  He is married to a lady of great merit, quality, and fortune.  He has, at length, consented that we shall try this last experiment, as the hearts of my mother and now lately of my father, as well as mine, are in it.  His lady would not be denied accompanying my sister; and as my brother could not bear being absent from her, he travels with them.  I wish he had stayed at Naples.  I hope, however, he will be as ready, as you will find us all, to acknowledge the favour of this visit, and the fatigue and trouble you have given yourself on our account.

As to my sister’s bodily health, proceeded he, it is greatly impaired.  We are almost hopeless, with regard to the state of her mind.  She speaks not; she answers not any questions.  Camilla is with her.  She seems regardless of any body else.  She has been told, that the general is married.  His lady makes great court to her; but she heeds her not.  We are in hopes, that my mother, on her return to Bologna, will engage her attention.  She never yet was so bad as to forget her duty, either to God, or her parents.  Sometimes Camilla thinks she pays some little attention to your name; but then she instantly starts, as in terror; looks round her with fear; puts her finger to her lips, as if she dreaded her cruel cousin Laurana should be told of her having heard it mentioned.

The bishop and father both regretted that she had been denied the requested interview.  They were now, they said, convinced, that if that had been granted, and she had been left to Mrs. Beaumont’s friendly care, a happy issue might have been hoped for:  But now, said the bishop—­Then sighed, and was silent.