It was with the utmo&longs;t difficulty that the united
efforts of Mademoi&longs;elle and Montraville could
&longs;upport Charlotte's &longs;pirits during their &longs;hort ride
from Chiche&longs;ter to Port&longs;mouth, where a boat waited
to take them immediately on board the &longs;hip in
which they were to embark for America.

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

As &longs;oon as &longs;he became tolerably compo&longs;ed, &longs;he
entreated pen and ink to write to her parents. This
&longs;he did in the mo&longs;t affecting, artle&longs;s manner, entreating
their pardon and ble&longs;&longs;ing, and de&longs;cribing
the dreadful &longs;ituation of her mind, the conflict &longs;he
&longs;uffered in endeavouring to conquer this unfortunate
attachment, and concluded with &longs;aying, her only
hope of future comfort con&longs;i&longs;ted in the (perhaps delusive)
idea &longs;he indulged, of being once more folded
in their protecting arms, and hearing the words of
peace and pardon from their lips.

The tears &longs;treamed ince&longs;&longs;antly while &longs;he was
writing, and &longs;he was frequently obliged to lay down
her pen: but when the ta&longs;k was completed, and &longs;he
had committed the letter to the care of Montraville
to be &longs;ent to the po&longs;t office, &longs;he became more calm,
and indulging the delightful hope of &longs;oon receiving
an an&longs;wer that would &longs;eal her pardon, &longs;he in &longs;ome
mea&longs;ure a&longs;&longs;umed her u&longs;ual chearfulne&longs;s.

But Montraville knew too well the con&longs;equences
that mu&longs;t unavoidably en&longs;ue, &longs;hould this letter
reach Mr. Temple: he therefore wi&longs;ely re&longs;olved to
walk on the deck, tear it in pieces, and commit
the fragments to the care of Neptune, who might
or might not, as it &longs;uited his convenience, convey
them on &longs;hore.

All Charlotte's hopes and wi&longs;hes were now
centered in one, namely that the fleet might be detained
at Spithead till &longs;he could receive a letter

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

from her friends: but in this &longs;he was di&longs;appointed,
for the &longs;econd morning after &longs;he went on board,
the &longs;ignal was made, the fleet weighed anchor,
and in a few hours (the wind being favourable)
they bid adieu to the white cliffs of Albion.

In the mean time every enquiry that could be
thought of was made by Mr. and Mrs. Temple:
for many days did they indulge the fond hope that
&longs;he was merely gone off to be married, and that
when the indi&longs;&longs;oluble knot was once tied, &longs;he
would return with the partner &longs;he had cho&longs;en, and
entreat their ble&longs;&longs;ing and forgivene&longs;s.

“And &longs;hall we not forgive her?” &longs;aid Mr. Temple.

“Forgive her!” exclaimed the mother. “Oh
yes, whatever be our errors, is &longs;he not our child?
and though bowed to the earth even with &longs;hame
and remor&longs;e, is it not our duty to rai&longs;e the poor
penitent, and whi&longs;per peace and comfort to her
de&longs;ponding &longs;oul? would &longs;he but return, with rapture
would I fold her to my heart, and bury every
remembrance of her faults in the dear embrace.”

But &longs;till day after day pa&longs;&longs;ed on, and Charlotte
did not appear, nor were any tidings to be heard
of her: yet each ri&longs;ing morning was welcomed by
&longs;ome new hope—the evening brought with it disappointment.
At length hope was no more; despair
u&longs;urped her place; and the man&longs;ion which was
once the man&longs;ion of peace, became the habitation
of pale, dejected melancholy.

[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

The chearful &longs;mile that was wont to adorn the
face of Mrs. Temple was &longs;led, and had it not been
for the &longs;upport of unaffected piety, and a consciousness
of having ever &longs;et before her child the fairest
example, &longs;he mu&longs;t have &longs;unk under this heavy
affliction.

“Since,” &longs;aid &longs;he, “the &longs;evere&longs;t &longs;crutiny cannot
charge me with any breach of duty to have
de&longs;erved this &longs;evere cha&longs;tizement, I will bow before
the power who inflicts it with humble resignation
to his will; nor &longs;hall the duty of a wife be
totally ab&longs;orbed in the feelings of the mother; I
will endeavour to appear more chearful, and by
appearing in &longs;ome mea&longs;ure to have conquered my
own &longs;orrow, alleviate the &longs;ufferings of my hu&longs;band,
and rou&longs;e him from that torpor into which this
misfortune has plunged him. My father too demands
my care and attention: I mu&longs;t not, by a
&longs;el&longs;i&longs;h indulgence of my own grief, forget the interest
tho&longs;e two dear objects take in my happine&longs;s
or mi&longs;ery: I will wear a &longs;mile on my face, though
the thorn rankles in my heart: and if by &longs;o doing,
I in the &longs;malle&longs;t degree contribute to re&longs;tore their
peace of mind, I &longs;hall be amply rewarded for the pain
the concealment of my own feelings may occa&longs;ion.

Thus argued this excellent woman: and in the
execution of &longs;o laudable a re&longs;olution we &longs;hall leave
her, to follow the fortunes of the haple&longs;s victim of
imprudence and evil coun&longs;ellors.

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