Your letter, my beloved Miss Howe, gives me great comfort. How sweetly
do I experience the truth of the wise man's observation, That a faithful
friend is the medicine of life!
Your messenger finds me just setting out for London: the chaise at the
door. Already I have taken leave of the good widow, who has obliged
me with the company of her eldest daughter, at Mr. Lovelace's request,
while he rides by us. The young gentlewoman is to return in two or three
days with the chaise, in its way to my Lord M.'s Hertfordshire seat.
I received my sister's dreadful letter on Sunday, when Mr. Lovelace was
out. He saw, on his return, my extreme anguish and dejection; and he was
told how much worse I had been: for I had fainted away more than once.