Besides the estate so bequeathed to Clementina, we can do great things for her: few Italian families are so rich as ours. Her brothers forget their own interest, when it comes into competition with hers: she is as generous as they. Our four children never knew what a contention was, but who should give up an advantage to the other. This child, this sweet child, was ever the delight of us all, and likewise of our brother the Conte della Porretta. What joy would her recovery and nuptials give us! --Dear creature! we have sometimes thought, that she is the fonder of the sequestered life, as it is that which we wish her not to embrace.--But can Clementina be perverse? She cannot. Yet that was the life of her choice, when she had a choice, her grandfathers' wishes notwithstanding. Will you now wonder, chevalier, that neither our sons nor we can allow Clementina to take the veil? Can we so reward Laurana for her cruelty? Especially now, that we suspect the motives for her barbarity? Could I have thought that my sister Sforza--But what will not love and avarice do, their powers united to compass the same end; the one reigning in the bosom of the mother, the other in that of the daughter? Alas! alas! they have, between them, broken the spirit of my Clementina. The very name of Laurana gives her terror--So far is she sensible. But, O sir, her sensibility appears only when she is harshly treated! To tenderness she had been too much accustomed, to make her think an indulgent treatment new, or unusual. I dread, my dear Dr. Bartlett, yet am impatient, to see the unhappy lady. I wish the general were not to accompany her. I am afraid I shall want temper, if he forget his. My own heart, when it tells me, that I have not deserved ill usage, (from my equals and superiors in rank, especially,) bids me not bear it. I am ashamed to own to you, my reverend friend, that pride of spirit, which, knowing it to be my fault, I ought long ago to have subdued. Make my compliments to every one I love. Mr. and Mrs. Reeves are of the number. Charlotte, I hope, is happy. If she is not, it must be her own fault. Let her know, that I will not allow, when my love to both sisters is equal, that she shall give me cause to say that Lady L---- is my best sister. Lady Olivia gives me uneasiness. I am ashamed, my dear Dr. Bartlett, that a woman of a rank so considerable, and who has some great qualities, should lay herself under obligation to the compassion of a man who can only pity her. When a woman gets over that delicacy, which is the test or bulwark, as I may say, of modesty--Modesty itself may soon lie at the mercy of an enemy. Tell my Emily, that she is never out of my mind; and that, among the other excellent examples she has before her, Miss Byron's must never be out of hers. Lord L---- and Lord G---- are in full possession of my brotherly love. I shall not at present write to my Beauchamp. In writing to you, I write to him.