On the eve of entering the convent she wrote to Don Carlos, informing him of her intention; of the impossibility of preserving herself for him, and her determination never to belong to another. He received this letter the day on which he sailed for Vera Cruz, and I believe, does not regret being a prisoner, since he has found in the place of his captivity a kind being who listens to his tale of sorrows and seeks to pour the balm of consolation into his wounded heart. He amuses me continually with his stories of Lima; describing the splendour of its palaces, the magnificence of its churches, filled with golden saints and silver angels, and the beautiful women with which it abounds. He tells me there can be nothing more fascinating than their manners; nor more singular and picturesque than their dress, which consists of a petticoat, reaching no lower than the knee, and a veil that covers the head and waist, but through which a pretty face is often shewn in a most bewitching manner. At the same time I perceive that he talks on every subject with reluctance, except on that nearest his heart; and when speaking of this, he seems animated by all the energy of despair. I have heard of Clara by a person just arrived from Cuba, and have written to her. My heart is torn with anxiety for her fate, and will remain a stranger to repose till I receive more satisfactory intelligence. I fear she was not born to be at ease. She lives continually in an ideal world. Her enthusiastic imagination filled with forms which it creates at pleasure, cherishes a romantic hope of visionary happiness which never can be realized. Yet with all my fine sentiments of correctness and propriety, and the duty of content and resignation, my heart refuses to condemn her for having left her husband. Never was there any thing more directly opposite than the soul of Clara, and that of the man to whom she was united. Their tempers, their dispositions, were absolutely incompatible. And should I abandon this poor girl to misfortune? should I leave her to perish among strangers? ah! no, she is twined round my heart, and I love her with more than a sister's affection. As soon as I hear from her again, you shall be informed of my intentions. If I can induce her to return with me to Philadelphia, in rejoining you I shall think myself no longer unhappy. LETTER XXVII. TO CLARA. _Kingston, Jamaica._