When the light of morning returned, which I thought never would return, I grew better. Mr. Montenero’s impressive advice, and all the kindness of his look and manner, recurred to my mind. The whole of his conduct--the filial affection of Berenice--the gratitude of Jacob--the attachment of friends, who had known him for years, all assured me of his sincerity towards myself; and the fancies, I will not call them suspicions, of the night, were dispelled. I was determined not to see either Mr. Montenero or Berenice for a few days. I knew that the best thing I could do, would be to take strong bodily exercise, and totally to change the course of my daily occupations. There was an excellent riding-house at this time in London, and I had been formerly in the habit of riding there. I was a favourite with the master--he was glad to see me again. I found the exercise, and the immediate necessity of suspending all other thoughts to attend to the management of my horse, of sovereign use. I thus disciplined my imagination at the time when I seemed only to be disciplining an Arabian horse. I question whether reading Seneca, or Epictetus, or any moral or philosophic writer, living or dead, would have as effectually _medicined_ my mind. While I was at the riding-house, General B---- came in with some young officers. The general, who had distinguished me with peculiar kindness, left the young men who were with him, and walked home with me. I refrained from asking any questions about Mr. or Miss Montenero’s visit at his house in Surrey; but he led to the subject himself, and spoke of her having been less cheerful than usual--dwelt on his wish that she and her father should settle in England--said there was a young American, a relation of the Manessas, just come over; he hoped there was no intention of returning with him to America. I felt a terrible twinge, like what I had experienced when the general had first mentioned his brother-in-law--perhaps, said I to myself, it may be as vain. General B---- was going to speak further on the subject, but though my curiosity was much raised, I thought I was bound in honour not to obtain intelligence by any secondary means. I therefore requested the general to let us change the subject. He tapped my shoulder: “You are right,” said he; “I understand your motives--you are right--I like your principles.” On returning from the riding-house, I had the pleasure of hearing that Mr. Montenero had called during my absence, and had particularly inquired from my own man after my health.