“Albemarle-street, Nov. 20, 1722. “And these little innocents have been my only comforters and counsellors, and, under God, my support, from the most dismal day I was so unfortunate to be deprived of the most delightful conversation of my dearest, dearest Lady Marlborough, to whom alone I could open the innermost thoughts of my loaded heart; and by whose exalted wisdom, and by a friendship more sincere than is now to be met in any other breast among all the men and women in the world, I found relief from all my then prevailing apprehensions, and was sometimes put in hope that the great and Almighty Disposer of all things would, out of his infinite goodness to me, at his own time and in his own way, establish those blessings (which he then showed me but a glimpse of, and suffered me to enjoy but a moment,) to me for the term of my happy life. “How these pleasing expectations were frightfully lessened by the ill state of health I found you in at Blenheim, I need not tell you, because you could not but see the confusion the melancholy sight put me into. And it was no small addition to my concern to see (as I imagined at least) so much indifference in the preservation of a life so precious amongst those entrusted with it; and had I not been deluded to believe that I should soon have the honour to see your grace here, I had, before I left Woodstock, sent to you to know by what safe method I might communicate to you any matter necessary for you to be informed of, relative to my dear country, or your still dearer self. “But I was not only disappointed of these intentions by the long progress you have made, and during which time, by inquiring every day at your door, I learnt from your porter that he knew not how to send a letter to you till you returned to St. Albans, and where, the moment I knew you were arrived, I presumed to send you the letter to which you honoured me with an answer by the post, but likewise by your letter coming in that way; and now I am altogether at a loss to tell my dear Lady Marlborough whether the pleasure that dear letter brought me, or the terrors it gave me, had the ascendant in me, and of this doubt you, and you alone, must judge. “First, then, the pleasure was infinite to hear that your health was restored to you. “But then the terror was unutterable when you took so much pains to let me know how little you valued a life that I thought inestimable. “Again, the pleasure was vastly great in reading those delightful words which so fully expressed sincere Lady Marlborough’s regard to me, and concern for me and my dearest children. “But then the terror was insupportable upon me, when I found you were unalterably determined not to see this place this winter, but likewise your letter being sent by the post, and which was opened by the miscreants of the office, seemed to be a sort of dreadful indication to me that you designed to put an end to all future correspondence with me.