worse,' of poor Lady A.; and no strange pastor to speak comfort to dying ears, or patience to agonised ones. No, blessed be God! I return to the peaceful home of my infancy, where no eye will glance suspicion, no tongue utter, no heart form it. Good Dr. Henderson will not make my malady the topic of his visits, to his other pa tients. The gray-headed domestics, who have known me since my birth, will not talk lightly of me. provincial paper will not give the on dits of my health; and dear, good Dr. Wilmington, will smooth my passage to the grave, and best comfort those who are left to mourn for me." Our She loves to dwell on her approaching end, to which she continually refers, as persons do to a long and pleasureable journey which they are about to undertake. Nor does she neglect to prepare for it, by prayer, meditation, and the cultivation of a contrite spirit. I never saw a creature throw off the faults of human nature so wholly, or clothe her spirit in meekness and holiness, as she does hers. Once, and only once, since the first day of her return to reason, I have ventured to name Lord Nottingham. She became crimsoned with shame; and, after a moment's pause, begged me to mention him no more.Then, resuming, after an internal struggle, "yet, why should I conceal from you, Mary, now, that by a consciousness of my sin, and a deep penitence, which I trust in the Almighty has atoned for it, that I felt for him a guilty passion, which rendered me blind and heedless to the danger to which I was exposing my fame, by permitting his daily visits. I was mad, infatuated-but dearly have I expiated that one sin. I trust that he never suspected my weakness; but, if he did, he never presumed. Nor did he insult me with a declaration of love; yet, a secret sympathy seemed to exist between us, that convinced me I was dear to him. "If I did not feel that my days are numbered, I would not wound your chaste car, Mary, with this avowal of an unhallowed passion; but, it is right I should humiliate myself by confessing it, now that it is only remembered with contrition. Think of the degradation to which this sinful love exposed me, when I tell you that a person-ay, and a woman, too-attempted to console me for the shame, the ignominy to which I was reduced, by holding out to me the prospect of being divorced! Yes, Mary, divorced! and then-I blush while repeating it-I might marry, as she said, the object of my affection. Was not this degradation? Yet, to this did I bring myself by my own infatuation." Such are the reflections of this dear and suffering creature; which prove that she was formed, not only to live in purity, but to live unsuspected. I write to you while she is slumbering; but even her dreams are haunted by the thoughts that occupy her when awake; for, I have heard her low, sweet voice, continually repeat,-“Indeed, I am not guilty! O, do not believe it!" Much as I languish to have you with me, my beloved, yet I am not so selfish as to repine, knowing how your time is occupied; nor could I wish one hour of that life abridged, the continuance of whose frail tenure keeps you from Your own MARY. THE MARQUESS OF NOTTINGHAM TO HENRY MOR- MY DEAR MORDAUNT-All that the most gloomy imagi. nation could have feared, has occurred-Annandale has commenced legal proceedings against me; and my infa tuated passion and imprudent attentions have plunged the pure and lovely object of them into a position the most humiliating to a noble nature like hers. Annandale must be the dupe of some plot, of which his innocent wife is the victim; for, I cannot think him so vile as to take the step he has done, without a belief in her culpability; and how could this belief have ever been formed, except by some wilful misrepresentations made to him, and some dark scheme put in practice to give a colour to the charge. My suspicions all point to Miss Montressor; yet, what could be the inducement to conduct at once so wicked. and so apparently causeless? I can discover no clue to this labyrinth of crime; but I loathe and execrate myself, for having furnished the occasion for its wearing, even for a moment, the semblance of probability, which it never could have done, but for my attentions. Lady Annandale is ill-confined to her bed. All this I learn through the newspapers; for, I dare not, under present circumstances, send to inquire at her father's door. Consequently, I, who could not bear to think of being a single day without seeing her, and who, for the accomplishment of this selfish enjoyment, have compromised her reputation, am now debarred the privilege of even a common acquaintance-that of sending to inquire after her health; and dare not even hope ever to behold her again. Her innocence of this foul charge must be made mani fest: nothing but the most wilful perjury can be brought against her. However, whether acquitted or condemned, too well do I know her, to indulge a hope that she would ever again consent to see me, and thus give a colour to the odious suspicions my attentions have excited. Lady Delaward has come to London, to be near her. I was sure she would; for, she is not a woman to doubt the purity of which her own feelings must be the guarantee; or to shrink from the responsibility of countenancing the innocence she does not doubt. She is worthy to be the friend of Augusta. But let me not use that name with a familiarity that I dare not adopt were she present; . for, notwithstanding her youth and inexperience, never yet did a woman preserve a more dignified reserve than Lady Annandale,―a reserve that emanated from the inherent modesty of her nature. I wander about at night like a disturbed spirit, and find myself continually in Grosvenor Square, gazing on the house that contains this suffering angel. The whole of the side where Lord Vernon's house stands is covered with straw; the knocker is tied up; and the entire mansion has an air of gloom and desolation which chills my heart. It was in that house, which now presents so dull and cheerless an aspect, that, a few weeks ago, I saw this lovely creature, in all the bloom of health and youth. "How looks she now? Bowed down by shame and sor row; for, well do I know, that even the consciousness of her innocence will not enable her to support the false, the insulting suspicions, to which her honour is exposed; and by me!-me, who should have shielded it from even the shadow of a doubt. I have been her bitterest, cruellest enemy; and she must loathe me, when she reflects on the irreparable injury I have inflicted on her. I never go out during the day, or receive any visits. I could not bear, in such a crisis, to meet the eye of curiosity, or to have my looks or manner commented upon, and cited as presumptive proofs of the truth or falsehood of the vile charge against that honour I know to be so spotless. To affect a cheerfulness utterly repugnant to my feelings, would be impossible; and the gloomy despondency I cannot shake off, would be considered as evidence of guilt. O world! world! how often are your conclusions erroneous! and how prone are you to attribute the vilest motives to actions, where guilt never was imagined! I destroy all the newspapers that refer to this foul libel; and writhe in agony when I reflect how many thousands of them will circulate in the various parts of the globe, disseminating far and wide these infamous aspersions on the fame of this angel: and I-I am the cause of all this! Better could I have borne that she had died while yet her reputation was as stainless as is her life, than live to see her name profaned, and made the subject of the ribald jests of the vile and vicious. Bear with me, my dear Mordaunt; and believe me NOTTINGHAM. |