you, to whom I have freely exposed all the failings of my wayward heart! in whose bosom I have reposed all its tumultuous beatings!--all its anxieties!--Oh, Louisa! can you forget my _confidence_ in you, which would not permit me to conceal even my errors? Why do you then join with men in scorning your friend? You say, _my father has now no power over me, even if he could form the idea of using power_. Alas! you have all too much power over me! you have the power of rendering me forever miserable, either by your persuasions to consign myself to eternal wretchedness; or by my _inexorableness_, as you call it, in flying in the face of persons so dear to me! How cruel it is in you to arraign the conduct of one to whose character you are a _stranger_! What has the man, who, unfortunately both for himself and me, has been too much in my thoughts; what has he done, that you should so decisively pronounce him to be inconstant, and forgetful of those who seemed so dear to him? Why is the delicacy of _your favourite_ to be so much commended for his forbearance till the year of mourning was near expired? And what proof that another may not be actuated by the same delicate motive? But I will have done with these painful interrogatories; they only help to wound my bosom, even more than you have done. My good uncle is better.--You have wrung my heart--and, harsh and unbecoming as it may seem in your eyes, I will not return to Woodley-vale, till I am assured I shall not receive any more persecutions on his account. Would he be content with my esteem, he may easily entitle himself to it by his still further _forbearance._ My resolution is fixed--no matter what that is--there is no danger of making any one a participator of my sorrows. Adieu! JULIA STANLEY. LETTER LVIII. To Miss GRENVILLE. Stanley-park. Louisa! why was this scheme laid? I cannot compose my thoughts even to ask you the most simple question! Can you judge of my astonishment? the emotions with which I was seized? Oh! no, you cannot--you cannot, because you was never sunk so low in the depths of affliction as I have been; you never have experienced the extreme of joy and despair as I have done. Oh! you know nothing of what I feel!--of what I cannot find words to express! Why don't you come hither?--I doubt whether I shall retain my senses till your arrival. Adieu! Your's for ever, JULIA STANLEY. LETTER LVIX. TO Lady BRUDENEL. Stanley-park. Yes! my dear Maria, you shall be made acquainted with the extraordinary change in your friend! You had all the mournful particulars of my past life before you. I was convinced of your worth, nor could refuse you my confidence. But what is all this? I cannot spend my time, my precious time, in prefacing the scenes which now surround me.