this
morning; he desires to see the child; he tells me, his brother, in his
last moments, mentioned this story in all the agony of remorse, and
begged him to provide for the little innocent, if to be found; that he
had made many enquiries, but hitherto in vain; and that he thought
himself happy in the discovery.

He talks of settling three thousand pounds on the child, and taking
the care of educating him into his own hands.

I hinted at some little provision for the amiable girl who had saved
him from perishing, and had the pleasure to find Sir William listen to
me with attention.

I am sorry it is not possible for me to be at your masquerade; but
my affair is just at the crisis: Bell expects a particular account of
it from Mrs. Rivers, and desires to be immediately in the secret of the
ladies dresses, though you are not: she begs you will send your fair
cottager and little charge to us, and we will take care to introduce
them properly to Sir William.

I am too much hurried to say more.

Adieu! my dear Rivers!
Your affectionate
J. Fitzgerald.

LETTER 213.

To Mrs. Fitzgerald.

Nov. 8.

Yes, my dear Bell, politeness is undoubtedly a moral virtue.

As we are beings formed for, and not capable of being happy without,
society, it is the duty of every one to endeavor to make it as easy and
agreable as they can; which is only to be done by such an attention to
others as is consistent with what we owe to ourselves; all we give them
in civility will be re-paid us in respect: insolence and ill-breeding
are detestable to all mankind.

I long to see you, my dear Bell; the delight I have had in your
society has spoiled my relish for that of meer acquaintance, however
agreable.

'Tis dangerous to indulge in the pleasures of friendship; they
weaken one's taste too much for common conversation.

Yet what other pleasures are worth the name? what others have spirit
and delicacy too?

I am preparing for the masquerade, which is to be the 18th; I am
extremely disappointed you will not be with us.

My dress is simple and unornamented, but I think becoming and
prettily fancied; it is that of a French _paisanne_: Lucy is to
be a sultana, blazing with diamonds: my mother a Roman matron.

I chuse this dress because I have heard my dear Rivers admire it; to
be one moment more pleasing in his eyes, is an object worthy all my
attention.

Adieu!
Your faithful
Emily Rivers.