ficiently
bitter for the revenge he meditated: besides, he had no country-house to
which he could carry his unfortunate wife. This being the case, the old
villain made her travel a much longer journey without stirring out of
London. Merciless fate robbed her of life, and of her dearest hopes, in
the bloom of youth.

As no person entertained any doubt of his having poisoned her, the
populace of his neighbourhood had a design of tearing him in pieces, as
soon as he should come abroad; but he shut himself up to bewail her
death, until their fury was appeased by a magnificent funeral, at which
he distributed four times more burnt wine than had ever been drunk at any
burial in England.

[The lampoons of the day, some of which are to be found in Andrew
Marvell's Works, more than insinuate that she was deprived of life
by a mixture infused into some chocolate. The slander of the times
imputed her death to the jealousy of the Duchess of York.]

While the town was in fear of some great disaster, as an expiation for
these fatal effects of jealousy, Hamilton was not altogether so easy as
he flattered himself he should be after the departure of Lady
Chesterfield: he had only consulted the dictates of revenge in what he
had done. His vengeance was satisfied; but such was far from being the
case with his love; and having, since the absence of her he still
admired, notwithstanding his resentments, leisure to make those
reflections which a recent injury will not permit a man to attend to:
"And wherefore," said he to himself, "was I so eager to make her
miserable, who alone, however culpable she may be, has it in her power to
make me happy? Cursed jealousy!" continued he, "yet more cruel to those
who torment than to those who are tormented! What have I gained by
having blasted the hopes of a more happy rival, since I was not able to
perform this without depriving myself, at the same time, of her upon whom
the whole happiness and comfort of my life was centred."

Thus, clearly proving to himself, by a great many reasonings of the same
kind, and all out of season, that in such an engagement it was much
better to partake with another than to have nothing at all, he filled his
mind with a number of vain regrets and unprofitable remorse, when he
received a letter from her who occasioned them, but a letter so exactly
adapted to increase them, that, after he had read it, he looked upon
himself as the greatest scoundrel in the w