rateful to man, can
he be ungrateful to his Maker?

Yours,

MOLESWORTH.

LETTER XXXVII.

Miss Powis to Lady Powis.

_London_.

Think me not ungrateful, my ever-honour'd Lady, that I have been silent
under the ten thousand obligations which I receiv'd at Barford
Abbey.--But indeed, my dear Lady, I have been _very_ ill.--I have had
the small-pox:--I was seiz'd delirious the evening after my arrival in
Town.--My God! what a wretch did I set out with!--Vile man!--Man did I
say?--_No_; he is a disgrace to _manhood_.--How shall I tell your
Ladyship all I have suffer'd?--I am weak,--_very_ weak;--I find myself
unequal to the task.--

This moment I have hit on an expedient that will unravel all;--I'll
recall a letter [Footnote: This was the same Lord Darcey's servant saw
on the counter.] which I have just sent down to be put into the
post-office;--a letter I wrote Lady Mary Sutton immediately on my
arrival here;--but was seiz'd so violently, that I could not add the
superscription, for which reason it has lain by ever since.--I am easy
on Lady Mary's account:--Mr. Delves has acquainted her of my
illness:--like wise the prospect of my recovery.

Consider then, dear Lady Powis, the inclos'd as if it was address'd to
yourself.

I cannot do justice to the affection,--the compassion,--the tender
assiduity I have experienc'd from Mr. Delves's family:--I shall always
love them; I hope too I shall always be grateful.

God grant, my dear Lady;--God grant, dear Sir James, that long ere this
you may have embrac'd Mr. and Mrs. Powis.--My heart is with _you_:--it
delights to dwell at Barford Abbey.

In a few days I hope to do myself the honour of writing to your Ladyship
again.--One line from your dear hand would be most gratefully receiv'd
by your oblig'd and affectionate

F. WARLEY.

_P.S._ My good friends Mr. and Mrs. Jenkings shall hear from me next
post.

LETTER XXXVIII.

Miss Powis to Lady MARY SUTTON.

Oh my dear Lady! what a villain have I escap'd from?--Could your
Ladyship believe that a man, who, to all appearance, has made a good
husband to your agreeable neighbour upwards of twelve years, and
preserv'd the character of a man of honour;--could you believe in the
decline of life he would have fallen off? No, he cannot have fallen:
such a mind as his never was exalted.--It is the virtues of his wife
that has hitherto made his vices imperceptible;--that has kept them in
their dark cell, a