“I have heard nothing from you for a week. I am in despair, for I have never been in such need of consolation as now. I still hope to receive a letter from you this evening, but if that hope should fail I know not what will become of me. I have endless things to tell you. I would give my blood to be able to tell them to you by word of mouth, but I see little or no chance of it. If you could come secretly I think the plan might succeed. I shall go to meet the Prince,[175] but I shall be there only a few days; we shall return here together. The matter they are trying to arrange, and on which depends my visit to the Electress of Brandenburg, is almost settled. There seems to be no doubt that the investiture will take place in four or five weeks. Knowing your temper, I am not sure if you will approve of my visit. I can assure you I think only of how to escape from going; but it is very difficult, for I have not to deal with children, and in the present state of things it would be harder to make excuses than at any other time. Let me know your wishes, and think, too, of some sensible expedient, in case you should not wish me to go. The Prince has written a ridiculous letter, with an order to give it, from him, to Le Barbouilleur, with his compliments. I did nothing of the kind. La Confidente returned it to him without a word from me. He avoids me as much as I shun him. No one could spend a more miserable life than I do. I am in a perpetual state of terror, and, to crown all, your letters are so cold that they make me lose patience. I declare, every one conspires against me. Instead of loving me more firmly than ever, you overwhelm me with unreasonable complaints. Maybe you rejoice at the obstacles in the way of my happiness. While I am fretting my heart out here, and have not a moment’s peace for fear they may part us for ever, you may be secretly tasting the joys of new conquests, without giving me so much as a thought. I am surprised that I still keep my reason, or know what I am saying. Persecuted as I am on all sides, tormented by anxiety on your account, I should not wonder if my brain were to give way. I have never deserved your love more than now. However bitterly you may reproach me, however much I may fear, nothing shakes my resolve to love you for ever, and to prove it to you all I can. They can hinder me from seeing you, but they can never keep me from being yours all my life long: you take the place of all to me. They told the Duke [of Hanover] that you moved to another house with your sister Aurora, and so sought to lure me to your place. Think of that! How they seek to ruin you! I did not sleep all night thinking of our being parted for ever. I know now the agony of separation so well that I dread it more than death. Yet I believe with a little prudence and good behaviour one could remedy all these evils, but I would