I could not close my letter in such an uncertainty as must have added to
your impatience. For you have, on several occasions, convinced me, that
the suspense you love to give would be the greatest torment to you that
you could receive. A common case with all aggressive and violent
spirits, I believe. I will just mention then (your servant waiting here
till I have written) that the lady has had two very severe fits: in the
last of which whilst she lay, they sent to the doctor and Mr. Goddard,
who both advised that a messenger should be dispatched for me, as her
executor; being doubtful whether, if she had a third, it would not carry
her off.
She was tolerably recovered by the time I cane; and the doctor made her
promise before me, that, while she was so weak, she would not attempt any
more to go abroad; for, by Mrs. Lovick's description, who attended her,
the shortness of her breath, her extreme weakness, and the fervour of her
devotions when at church, were contraries, which, pulling different ways
(the soul aspiring, the body sinking) tore her tender frame in pieces.
So much for the present. I shall detain Will. no longer than just to beg
that you will send me back this packet and the last. Your memory is so
good, that once reading is all you ever give, or need to give, to any
thing. And who but ourselves can make out our characters, were you
inclined to let any body see what passes between us? If I cannot be
obliged, I shall be tempted to withhold what I write, till I have time to
take a copy of it.*
* It may not be amiss to observe, that Mr. Belford's solicitude to get
back his letters was owing to his desire of fulfilling the lady's wishes
that he would furnish Miss Howe with materials to vindicate her memory.
A letter from Miss Howe is just now brought by a particular messenger,
who says he must carry back a few lines in return. But, as the lady is
just retired to lie down, the man is to call again by-and-by.