lovely young widow--What a charming widow
would she have made! how would she have adorned the weeds! to be a widow
in the first twelve months is one of the greatest felicities that can
befal a fine woman. Such pretty employment in new dismals, when she had
hardly worn round her blazing joyfuls! Such lights, and such shades! how
would they set off one another, and be adorned by the wearer!--

Go to the devil!--I will write!--Can I do anything else?

They would not have me write, Belford.--I must be ill indeed, when I
can't write.

***

But thou seemest nettled, Jack! Is it because I was stung? It is not
for two friends, any more than for man and wife, to be out of patience
at one time.--What must be the consequence if they are?--I am in no
fighting mood just now: but as patient and passive as the chickens that
are brought me in broth--for I am come to that already.

But I can tell thee, for all this, be thy own man, if thou wilt, as to
the executorship, I will never suffer thee to expose my letters. They
are too ingenuous by half to be seen. And I absolutely insist upon it,
that, on receipt of this, thou burn them all.

I will never forgive thee that impudent and unfriendly reflection, of my
cavaliering it here over half a dozen persons of distinction: remember,
too, thy words poor helpless orphan--these reflections are too serious,
and thou art also too serious, for me to let these things go off as
jesting; notwithstanding the Roman style* is preserved; and, indeed, but
just preserved. By my soul, Jack, if I had not been taken thus
egregiously cropsick, I would have been up with thee, and the lady too,
before now.

* For what these gentlemen mean by the Roman style, see Vol. I. Letter
XXXI. in the first note.

But write on, however: and send me copies, if thou canst, of all that
passes between our Charlotte and Miss Harlowe. I'll take no notice of
what thou communicatest of that sort. I like not the people here the
worse for their generous offer to the lady. But you see she is as proud
as implacable. There's no obliging her. She'd rather sell her clothes
than be beholden to any body, although she would oblige by permitting the
obligation.

O Lord! O Lord!--Mortal ill!--Adieu, Jack!

***

I was forced to leave off, I was so ill, at this place. And what dost
think! why Lord M. brought the parson of the parish to pray by me; for
his chaplain is at Oxford. I was lain down in my night