"Though prepared for my visit, she was unable to bear the shock of seeing me; I ran to her, she raised herself in the bed, and, throwing her feeble arms round my neck, could only say, 'My Fanny! is this possible!' and fainted away. "Our cares having recovered her, she endeavored to compose herself; her eyes were fixed tenderly on me, she pressed my hand between hers, the tears stole silently down her cheeks; she looked at her child, then at me; she would have spoke, but the feelings of her heart were too strong for expression. "I begged her to be calm, and promised to spend the day with her; I did not yet dare, lest the emotion should be too much for her weak state, to tell her we would part no more. "I took a room in the house, and determined to give all my attention to the restoration of her health; after which, I hoped to contrive to make my little fortune, with industry, support us both. "I sat up with her that night; she got a little rest, she seemed better in the morning; she told me the particulars I have already related; she, however, endeavored to soften the cruel behaviour of the wretch, whose name I could not hear without horror. "She had in the afternoon a little fever; I sent for a physician, he thought her in danger; what did not my heart feel from this information? she grew worse, I never left her one moment. "The next morning she called me to her; she took my hand, and looking at me with a tenderness no language can describe, "'My dear, my only friend,' said she, 'I am dying; you are come to receive the last breath of your unhappy Sophia: I wish with ardor for my father's blessing and forgiveness, but dare not ask them. "'The weakness of my heart has undone me; I am lost, abandoned by him on whom my soul doated; by him, for whom I would have sacrificed a thousand lives; he has left me with my babe to perish, yet I still love him with unabated fondness: the pang of losing him sinks me to the grave!' "Her speech here failed her for a time; but recovering, she proceeded, "'Hard as this request may seem, and to whatever miseries it may expose my angel friend, I adjure you not to desert my child; save him from the wretchedness that threatens him; let him find in you a mother not less tender, but more virtuous, than his own. "'I know, my Fanny, I undo you by this cruel confidence; but who else will have mercy on this innocent?' "Unable to answer, my heart torn with unutterable anguish, I snatched the lovely babe to my bosom, I kissed him, I bathed him with my tears. "She understood me, a gleam of pleasure brightened her dying eyes, the child was still pressed to my heart, she gazed on us both with a look of wild affection; then, clasping her hands together, and breathing a fervent prayer to heaven, sunk down, and expired without a groan-- "To you, Madam, I need not say the rest.