lding so hastily.
While supposed to be writing only to Captain Benwick, he had been also
addressing her! On the contents of that letter depended all which this
world could do for her. Anything was possible, anything might be
defied rather than suspense. Mrs Musgrove had little arrangements of
her own at her own table; to their protection she must trust, and
sinking into the chair which he had occupied, succeeding to the very
spot where he had leaned and written, her eyes devoured the following
words:

"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means
as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half
hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are
gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your
own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare
not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an
earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been,
weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have
brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not
seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not
waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think
you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant
hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can
distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others.
Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do
believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe
it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W.

"I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow
your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to
decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never."

Such a letter was not to be soon recovered from. Half an hour's
solitude and reflection might have tranquillized her; but the ten
minutes only which now passed before she was interrupted, with all the
restraints of her situation, could do nothing towards tranquillity.
Every moment rather brought fresh agitation. It was overpowering
happiness. And before she was beyond the first stage of full
sensation, Charles, Mary, and Henrietta all came in.

The absolute necessity of seeming like herself produced then an
immediate struggle; but after a while she could do no