CHAP. VIII. LETTER LVIII. _From Miss Cowley to Miss Hardcastle._ It is with no small satisfaction, my dearest Lucy, that I find my “enthusiasm of mind and ardency of temper,” (to avail myself of your gentle terms for a spirit too often governed by the impulse of a heart, which, in its promptitude is apt to take the lead of judgment) have met with your approbation and concurrence, in regard, at least, to the conduct I mean to pursue with Lady Maclairn: to say the truth, Lucy, I could practise no other; for she hourly rises in my _estimation_, and _esteem_ with me is the basis of affection. The relief which she finds in communicating her thoughts to me, has given to her very language a frankness which appears to be her natural character; and in her account of the various occurrences of her life, since she married Sir Murdoch, she omits not even her conjectures, as these arose from the circumstances in which she has been placed. “I long since had proofs,” said she this morning, when speaking of the suffering Miss Flint, “that Lucretia was not devoid of feeling. My brother, for reasons of his own, had so contrived it, that she firmly held an opinion which he, it is probable, only _affected_ to have. Illegitimate birth he considered as an indelible disgrace on the innocent; and Miss Flint adopted this notion, firmly believing that neither fortune, talents, nor even virtue could screen an unfortunate being, who stood in this predicament, from the reproach and insults of the malicious. Her affection for her child was unbounded; and I saw with comfort, that I had at least gained her gratitude, by my apostacy from truth. The conduct she maintained with my brother, in the mean time, puzzled me. It was obvious, he was no longer _the favoured lover_; and one day, observing Philip much disturbed from an interview he had with her in the garden at Kensington, I ventured to say to Lucretia, that I was sorry to see Philip unhappy.” “I understand you,” replied she, “and I will be explicit with you. I shall never be his wife; nor will I be to him what I unfortunately have been. I am a _mother_, Harriet, and I will prove myself one, by remaining what I am, and what I can contrive to be, the guardian of my son. I have no passions to gratify, no desires to control, since I beheld the face of my child; to love and cherish him, and to bless you for your goodness, shall fill up the measure of my _miserable_ days.” She burst into tears and left me abruptly. Her sincerity wanted no evidence stronger than her conduct, continued Lady Maclairn. For some time all went well. I was made happy through her mediation, and amongst the delusive hopes, which led me to Farefield Hall as Maclairn’s wife, was the flattering one, that, by the influence I had acquired over Lucretia, I might in time reconcile her to Mrs. Howard. Mr. Flamall frustrated these designs. His