LETTER II

MR. BELFORD
[IN CONTINUATION.]

The Colonel tells me that he had written to Mr. John Harlowe, by his
servant, 'That they might spare themselves the trouble of debating about
a reconciliation; for that his dear cousin would probably be no more
before they could resolve.'

He asked me after his cousin's means of subsisting; and whether she had
accepted of any favour from me; he was sure, he said, she would not from
you.

I acquainted him with the truth of her parting with some of her apparel.

This wrung his heart; and bitterly did he exclaim as well against you as
against her implacable relations.

He wished he had not come to England at all, or had come sooner; and
hoped I would apprize him of the whole mournful story, at a proper
season. He added, that he had thoughts, when he came over, of fixing
here for the remainder of his days; but now, as it was impossible his
cousin could recover, he would go abroad again, and re-settle himself at
Florence or Leghorn.

The lady has been giving orders, with great presence of mind, about her
body! directing her nurse and the maid of the house to put her in the
coffin as soon as she is cold. Mr. Belford, she said, would know the
rest by her will.

***

She has just now given from her bosom, where she always wore it, a
miniature picture, set in gold, of Miss Howe. She gave it to Mrs.
Lovick, desiring her to fold it up in white paper, and direct it, To
Charles Hickman, Esq. and to give it to me, when she was departed, for
that gentleman.

She looked upon the picture, before she gave it her--Sweet and
ever-amiable friend!--Companion!--Sister!--Lover! said she--and kissed
it four several times, once at each tender appellation.

***

Your other servant is come.--Well may you be impatient!--Well may you!
--But do you think I can leave off, in the middle of a conversation, to
run and set down what offers, and send it away piece-meal as I write?
--If I could, must I not lose one half, while I put down the other?

This event is nearly as interesting to me as it is to you. If you are
more grieved than I, there can be but one reason for it; and that's at
your heart!--I had rather lose all the friends I have in the world,
(yourself in the number,) than this divine lady; and shall be unhappy
whenever I think of her sufferings, and of her merit; though I have
nothing to reproach myself by reason of the former.

I say not this, just now, so much to