"'There my dear,' said he, after I had assured him, over and over again, that I must really decline his offer. 'There my dear! I will leave you now. I don't want you to decide all at once; but, remember, you must not let what I a been a-saying about our minding the main chance, frighten you; because you'll find me a very reasonable, good-natured fellow: and, as for going to the play, if you are fond of that, I can get orders for the pit, whenever I like.' "I presume you have now had quite enough of my intended, and I know you will want to hear something of my health, about which you so kindly interest yourself. I was alarmed about ten days ago by the rupture of a small blood-vessel, which caused an expectoration of blood for two days. Being unwilling you or my dear mother should be at all alarmed about me, I would not mention this, till all these bad symptoms were removed completely, which is now the case. My physician tells me such small vessels are of little consequence, and, by avoiding over-fatigue and taking care of myself, he has no doubt I shall get perfectly well. Indeed there is now nothing at all the matter with me, unless I attempt to walk fast; and then I feel a something like stagnation and fulness about my heart, and my lips turn blueish. However, I both eat and sleep well, and I am told that when patients ask Dr. Baillie to prescribe for them for any pain or ache, while enjoying these two advantages, the doctor loses patience and refuses to listen to them: _et tant mieux!_ I do not want to die, and go we know not whither, and lose sight of the bright sun for ever. I am not even ambitious of a show-death, to have my fortitude, or my sweet smile, or my calm courage, or my last prayers extolled. You know I am not in the least romantic; but I am attached to life for my dear children's sake, and, in a word, though it may be cowardly, yet I hope and pray that God will spare my life many years longer: but, if he has willed it otherwise, I will try not to murmur at his decree: and I tell you frankly that my sins do not sit at all heavy on my conscience; because I never doubt the goodness of God. This is all very grave; but I am so seldom grave that you will forgive me. "I shall write to you, my dear sister, again very soon; but I will conclude now; because I am a little too serious: so believe me ever, "Most truly and affectionately yours, "FANNY PARKER."