nts were as follows:

"Dear Mrs. Conway: You will be doubtless surprised at seeing my
handwriting, and your first impulse will naturally be to put this
letter into the fire. I am not writing to ask you to forgive my
conduct in the old days. I am but too well aware how completely I
have forfeited all right to your esteem or consideration. Believe
me that I have suffered for my fault, and that my life has been a
ruined one. I attempt to make no excuses. I am conscious that
while others were to blame I was most of all, and that it is to my
own weakness of will and lack of energy that the breach between us
was due. However, all this is of the past and can now interest you
but little. You have had your own sorrows and trials, at which,
believe me, I sincerely grieved. And now to my object in writing
to you. Although still comparatively a young man, I have not many
years to live. When last in London I consulted two of the first
physicians, and they agreed that, as I had already suspected, I
was suffering from heart disease, or rather, perhaps, from an
enfeebled state of my heart, which may at any moment cease to do
its work.

"Naturally then, I have turned my thoughts as to whom I should
leave my property. My sisters are amply provided for. I have no
other near relatives, and therefore consider myself free to leave
it as I choose. I have long fixed my thoughts upon the daughter of
a dear friend, the rector of Bilston; she is now thirteen years
old, and half my property is left her. I have left the other half
to your son. The whole subject to an annuity to yourself; which
you will not, I trust, refuse to accept. I have never thought of
any woman but you, and I hope that you will not allow your just
resentment against me to deprive me of the poor satisfaction of
making what atonement lies in my power for the cruel wrong I
formerly did you.

"Were I strong and in health I can well imagine that you would
indignantly refuse to receive any benefits from my hands, but
knowing your kindness of heart, I feel sure that you will not
sadden the last days of a doomed man by the knowledge that even
after his death his hopes of insuring the comfort of the one woman
on earth he cared for are to be disappointed.

"I should like to know your son. Would it be too much to ask you
to spare hi