Meet me at three o'clock, by the Schuylkill Bridge.
I have much to tell you. Juliet has received a letter
from Grenville; and she has sent for Molton, who is to
come this afternoon. I am sorry to see such confidence
between them; and have half a mind to remain and watch
them. What think you----would he dare to meet me?
But, you do not know him? He is a consummate villain.
Hitherto, I have been unable to write his name,
such has been my scorn of him. Juliet is determined to
join her husband, at Charleston, notwithstanding her
health; and spend the winter there. He is nearly well,
she says---but why do I trouble thee, with this Randolph;
thou canst not understand the delirious joy that agitates
a woman, a wife, when the lord of her heart, is resuscitated,
all at once, from the grave. I shall have to return.
I cannot go with her. Why! dear Randolph---Let me
not conceal the truth---though it cover my forehead, as it
does, at this moment, with shame, to confess it. It is because
I cannot bear to be so far away from you.

Is not this wrong?----It is. Yet I cannot retract. I
must on---on---on!---although I shudder, when I look
back, a few months; and ask myself, what could have
persuaded me then, to a clandestine meeting with a man.
O Randolph, Randolph!---thou hast brought me to this.

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