India—married there to a gentleman in the India Service of that Name—who brought her over to England for the recovery of her health in the Year 65—where She continued to April the year 1767. It was ab^t. three months before her Return to India, That our Author’s acquaintance & hers began. M^{rs}. Draper had a great thirst for knowledge—was handsome—genteel—engaging—and of such gentle disposition & so enlightened an understanding,—That Yorick (whether he made much opposition is not known) from an acquaintance—soon became her Admirer—they caught fire, at each other at the same time—& they w^d. often say, without reserve to the world, & without any Idea of saying wrong in it, That their Affections for each other were _unbounded_—M^r. Draper dying in the Year * * * * * This Lady return’d to England & Yorick the year after becoming a Widower—They were married—& retiring to one of his Livings in Yorkshire, where was a most romantic Situation—they lived & died happily—and are spoke of with honour in the parish to this day.” Sterne felt sure that the marriage with Eliza would take place within three years. He had so written on the impulse of the moment in dedicating an almanac to her, and he believed that impulse came from heaven. In the meantime Eliza was omnipresent in the spirit. “In proportion,” writes Sterne, “as I am thus torn from y^r. embraces—_I cling the closer to the Idea of you_. Your Figure is ever before my eyes—the sound of y^r. voice vibrates with its sweetest tones the live long day in my ear—I can see & hear nothing but my Eliza.” As he sat down to his _Sentimental Journey_, Eliza entered the library without tapping, and he had to shut her out before he could begin writing. On another day, the dear Bramine was asked to stay that her presence might “soften and modulate” his feelings for a sentimental portrait—the fair Fleming, it may be, or the beautiful Grisette, or the heartbroken Maria. To Eliza he dedicated “a sweet little apartment” in his “thatched palace,” and entered there ten times every day to render his devotions to her in “the sweetest of earthly Tabernacles.” And for his future “Partner and Companion” he built a pavilion in “a retired corner” of his garden, where he sat in reverie, and longed and waited for that day’s sleep when he might say with Adam—“_Behold the Woman Thou has given me for Wife._”