“What a misfortune happened yesterday! our dear mother suddenly fainted, and I was afraid she was dead; I was alone with her, sitting at my work, and did not perceive her change countenance, so that she was on the ground before I could afford her any assistance. My loud cries brought the servants, but not before I had got my arm under her head: I kissed her forehead, and called upon her a hundred times, as if I could recall her to life. The surgeon soon arrived, and bled her, and in about half an hour she came to herself again. But what did I suffer during that dreadful interval! I wished a thousand times that you were here. Do not delay a moment, dear brother, if you love me; I shall be much easier, I know, when you are with me. We shall assist each other in nursing her, for I will never leave her a moment care of strangers; I remember how she Sat up with us when we had the smallpox and measles, and if she was out of danger, I should feel a pleasure in convincing her, that I love her as dearly as she loves me.” This is a short transcript, William, of my dear girl’s letter; for with a full heart she has written the same thing over and over again. We shall leave this the first peep of day, and you may expect the earliest account of my mother’s state of health. CHARLES. LETTER XVI. CHARLES _to_ WILLIAM. My mother is out of danger; my sister’s letter made me very apprehensive; the tenderness of her nature makes her tremble at the least indisposition that attacks her parents, and she exaggerates the danger, till she is unable to see things as they really are. But why do I blame her? What have I not suffered myself through anxiety, in my way hither? I sometimes feared my mother was already dead, and we appeared to ride too fast forward: I was afraid to approach the hall one minute, and the next was in a violent perspiration through my eagerness to reach it. In short, William, I had a continual palpitation at my heart, and now find myself by no means well. But I shall not complain; in the morning probably I shall be better. The time draws near, the time I so eagerly look for, when I was to have visited Holland: all my hopes seem like a dream, and it appears to me wrong even to think of it. I will go and take a little walk in the garden, it may, perhaps, refresh me.