t," speaking to my father, "but
you will make up her loss to them both." Then, my father said to me,
"Pray read your letter to us." This I did, and the letter contained an
earnest desire, that if I could not write myself, I would let his
footman see me, that he might know how I really was; since he was
almost distracted for fear of my being ill after so great a shock. He
also begged me to remember, "That there was one left still, who loved
me as tenderly as my mother could do, and whose whole happiness in
this world depended upon my life." My father told me, tho' my mother
was to be buried that night, "I must write a line to him, in order to
ease the poor soul as much as I could; and let him know that he was as
welcome to my father's house, whenever he would please to come, as he
was before." On this I wrote to him, and shewed the letter to my
father. The footman set out with it for London the same night, or very
early the next morning. Mr. Cranstoun not coming down so soon as was
expected, my father one day, being alone with me, seemed to express
himself as if he thought it wrong; upon which I wrote a very pressing
letter to him, to come immediately to Henley. To this he in a letter
replied, that he was not able to go out at that time for debt, and was
fearful if he should come, the Bailiffs might follow him; his fortune
being seized in Scotland, for the maintenance of Miss Murray and her
child. The debt that occasioned this perplexity, he said, was near
fifteen guineas. I having borrowed forty pounds of Mrs. Mounteney, to
pay off part of my mother's debts, sent him up fifteen guineas out of
this sum; on which he came down to Henley, and staid some weeks with
my father, who received him with great marks of affection and esteem.

During this interval, he acquainted me with the great skill of the
famous Mrs. Morgan, who had described me and my father, tho' she had
never seen us, in the most perfect and surprising manner possible. He
further acquainted me, that she had given him some powders to take,
which she called Love-powders. Some time after this conversation, my
father seemed much out of humour, and said several unkind things, both
to Mr. Cranstoun and me. This induced Mr. Cranstoun, when alone with
me not long after, to say, "I wish I could give your father some of
the love-powders." "For what?" said I. "Because," replied he, "they
would make him love me." "Are you weak enough," said I, "to think that
there is such