everything that befell me for a length of time, from this moment, I
am utterly unconscious; when I again awoke to consciousness, I was in
bed at my lodgings, with my kind landlady seated at my bedside. I was so
weak and reduced I could scarce turn myself; the agitation I had
undergone, and the cruel receptions I had met on my return, had been too
much for my mind to bear; a brain fever had been the consequence, and my
life had been despaired of for several days. I would have questioned
my landlady; but she urged silence upon me, and refused to answer my
inquiries. I soon after learned all. I had been utterly neglected by
those to whom I might have looked for aid or consolation; but the
bitterest thought of all was, that Eliza should cast me off without
inquiry or explanation. I could not bring my mind to believe she did
so of her own accord. She must, I thought, be either cruelly deceived
or under restraint; for she and her friends could not but know the
situation I was in. I vainly strove to call my wounded pride to my aid,
and drive her from my thoughts; but the more I strove, the firmer hold
she took of me. As soon as I could hold my pen, I wrote to her in the
most moving terms; and, after stating the whole truth and what I had
suffered, begged an interview, were it to be our last--for my life or
death, I said, appeared to depend upon her answer. In the afternoon I
received one: it was my own letter, which had been opened, and enclosed
in an envelope. The writing was in her own hand. Cruel woman! all it
contained was, that she had read, and now returned my letter as of her
own accord, and by the approbation of her friends; for she was firmly
resolved to have no communication with one who had used her so cruelly,
and exposed her to the ridicule of her friends and acquaintances. This
unjust answer had quite an opposite effect from what I could have
conceived a few hours before; pity and contempt for the fickle creature
took the place of love; my mind became once more tranquil; I recovered
rapidly, and soon began to walk about and enjoy the sweets of summer. I
met my fickle fair by accident more than once in my walks, and found I
could pass her as if we had never met. Her brother I had often a mind
to have horsewhipped; but the thought that I would only give greater
publicity to my unfortunate adventure, and be looked upon as the guilty
aggressor, prevented me from gratifying my wish.

Glasgow had now become hateful to