"Was this the pillow of repose for which I had given up my everlasting peace? My soul sickens at the thought! An alms-house, a cave in the earth is preferable to this abode! Let me fly to a spot where I am not known. My God is a reconcilable God: my Redeemer still liveth! The outstretched arm of infinite justice may be suspended by my repentance; by my bitter repentance! My weakness and my ignorance cannot produce any benefit to the injured. Alas! will it be allowed me to plead, that these betrayed me to guilt, to cruelty, to wretchedness; and that I cannot remedy, though wishing so to do, the least of the mischiefs I have done?" * * * * * I shall make no comments, my Lucy, on these extraordinary and affecting papers: they evidently make only a part of a more detailed confession. But we may ask, "What is this secret sin, this untold tale, "That art cannot extract, nor penance cleanse?" MYSTERIOUS MOTHER. For I cannot persuade myself that Mrs. Barnes's guilt went no farther, than being subservient to Mrs. Howard's cruel treatment when her love affair was discovered. I intend to see the good Mrs. Crofts, and to say that I think the papers can be of no use; being evidently nothing more than the effects of a disturbed mind and a great depression of spirits. CHAP. X. LETTER XXX. _From Miss Cowley to Miss Hardcastle._ Why, my dear Lucy, after such a dearth of intelligence from our dear Horace, did you scruple to open the budget he sent me? You could not imagine, that he could, or would fill nearly a ream of paper with his vows of unalterable love and fidelity. He well knows, that were he to conjugate the verb _aimer_ with all its moods and tenses, I should look only to the present and future. _Je vous aime, et je vous aimerai_, contents me. You will find in fact that Horace understood this when he sat down to write me a love letter; and that he wisely considered I should be better pleased with the contents of the packet which swelled his dispatches, than by the most elegant display of his talents for a tender epistle. In the mean time he has been contending with the winds of heaven; but as I know your father has received a bulletin of his health and spirits, I shall only add, that I _am happy_.