ly (for though I never
from his first disorder left him long in the day, yet his tenderness
would not let me sit up all night with him), I was denied to see him.
This so surprised and frightened me, that I cried out, What? Not see
my father? On which I heard my father reply, My dear Polly, you shall
presently; and some time after I did. That meeting and parting, and
the mutual love, sorrow, and grief, is truly described by Susanna
Gunnel; though poor soul she is mistaken in some other respects.

I was after this confined in my room by Dr. Addington's own orders;
during which confinement, as I am informed, my father wanted to see
some body, and it was imagined to be me. But, alas! I was not
suffered. The night before he died, my father sent his blessing to me,
with his commands to bring that villain to justice. I sent him answer
back, I would do all in my power to hang that villain, as he rightly
called him.

But the usage which I received in my father's house, unknown to him I
am sure, is shocking to relate. My going to listen at his door, the
only comfort left me, to hear if he was asleep was denied me. All my
keys were taken from, me--my letters--my very garters. My maid-servant
never came near me, helpless as I was by grief and fits. This I bore
patiently, being fearful of disturbing my father, as our rooms joined.
The man who was with me can witness to my sufferings, how often I
wished for instant death to take me, and spare my dear father, whom
never child loved better; whose death alone, unattended with these
misfortunes, would have been an excessive shock to me.

When Dr. Addington, and Dr. Lewis (who was called in it seems) came
into the room, and told me, that nothing could save my ever dear
father; for a considerable time I sat like a stone image; and then
told them, that I had given my poor father some powders which
Cranstoun had given me, and feared those had hurt my father, though
Cranstoun assured me that they would not.

It is not in human nature to declare what I suffered at that time. God
grant that no one ever may again.

When my father was dead, though mistress of myself, my keys, servants,
two horses in the stable, all my own; yet I never quitted my room.
Though none dared to molest me, I never stirred. They say, that I
walked about my room for hours; but I hardly remember anything. Much
is now said of my trying to bribe my servants. How contrary to truth!
As for bribing Betty my cook; of all m