Mr. Lowther doubts not, he says, but he shall soon convince Jeronymo that he merits his confidence, and then he will exact it from him; and, in so doing, shall not only give weight to his own endeavours to serve him, but rid the other two gentlemen of embarrasments which have often given them diffidences, when resolution was necessary. In the mean time the family here are delighted with Mr. Lowther. They will flatter themselves, they say, with hopes of their Jeronymo's recovery; which, however, Mr. Lowther, for fear of disappointment, does not encourage. Jeronymo himself owns, that his spirits are much revived; and we all know the power that the mind has over the body. Thus have I given you, my reverend friend, a general notion of Jeronymo's case, as I understand it from Mr. Lowther's as general representation of it. He has prevailed upon him to accept of an apartment adjoining to that of his patient. Jeronymo said, that when he knows he has so skilful a friend near him, he shall go to rest with confidence; and good rest is of the highest consequence to him. What a happiness, my dear Dr. Bartlett, will fall to my share, if I may be an humble instrument, in the hand of Providence, to heal this brother; and if his recovery shall lead the way to the restoration of his sister; each so known a lover of the other, that the world is more ready to attribute her malady to his misfortune and danger, than to any other cause! But how early days are these, on which my love and my compassion for persons so meritorious, embolden me to build such forward hopes! Lady Clementina is now impatiently expected by every one. She is at Urbino. The general and his lady are with her. His haughty spirit cannot bear to think she should see me, or that my attendance on her should be thought of so much importance to her. The marchioness, in a conversation that I have just now had with her, hinted this to me, and besought me to keep my temper, if his high notion of family and female honour should carry him out of his usual politeness. I will give you, my dear friend, the particulars of this conversation. She began with saying, that she did not, for her part, now think, that her beloved daughter, whom once she believed hardly any private man could deserve, was worthy of me, even were she to recover her reason. I could not but guess the meaning of so high a compliment. What answer could I return that would not, on one hand, be capable of being thought cool; on the other, of being supposed interested; and as if I were looking forward to a reward that some of the family still think too high? But, while I knew my own motives, I could not be displeased with a lady who was not at liberty to act, in this point, according to her own will. I only said, (and it was with truth,) That the calamity of the noble lady had endeared her to me, more than it was possible the most prosperous fortune could have done.