Mary Wilmot? she answered, that is a
strange question from you: surely you know
she is not here.

Not here? cryed I, somewhat startled;
what has become of her?

You do not know then that she has left us
for good and all?

No, indeed; not a syllable of any such
design has reached me; but whither has she
gone?

That is more than I can say. If you are
uninformed on that head, it cannot be expected
that I should be in the secret. I only
know, that three days ago she told me of her
intention to change her lodgings, and she did so
accordingly, yesterday morning, at sun rise.

But what was her motive? What cause of
dislike did she express to this house? I expected
she would remain here, till she changed
it for an house of her own.

Why indeed that may be actually the case
now, for she went away with a very spruce
young gentleman, in his chaise; but that cannot
be. Poor creature! She was in no state for
so joyous a thing as matrimony. She was
very feeble; nay, she was quite ill: she had

[figure description] Page 102.[end figure description]

scarcely left her bed during five days before,
and with difficulty got out of it, and dressed
herself, when the chaise called for her. She
would eat nothing, notwithstanding all my
persuasion, and the pains I took to prepare
some light nice thing, such as a weak stomach
could bear. When she told me she meant
to leave my house, I was as much surprised
as you, and inquired what had offended or
displeased her in my behaviour. She assured
me that she had been entirely satisfied, and
that her motives for leaving me had no connection
with my deportment. There was a
necessity for going, though she could not explain
to me what it was. I ventured to ask
where she designed to go, but she avoided
answering me for some time; and when I
repeated the question, she said, she could not
describe her new lodgings. She knew not in
what spot she was destined to take up her rest,
and confessed, that there were the most cogent
reasons for her silence on that head. I mentioned
the coldness of the weather, and her
own ill-health, but she answered, that no
option had been left her, and that she must go, if
it were even necessary to carry her from her

[figure description] Page 103.[end figure description]

bed to the carriage. All this, as you may well
suppose, was strange, and I renewed my
questions and intreaties, but she gave me no
satisfaction, and persisted in her resolutions.
Accordingly, on Thursday morning, a chaise
stopped at the door, took her in, with a small
trunk, and hastened away.

I was confounded and perplexed at this
tale. No event was less expected than this.
No intimation had even been dropped by
Mary, that created the least suspicion of this
design. She had left, as Mrs. Bordley proceeded
to inform me, all her furniture, without
direction to whom, or in what manner to
dispose of it, and yet had said, that she never
designed to return. The gentleman with
whom she departed, was unknown to Mrs.
Bordley, and had stopt so short a time as not
to suffer her to obtain, by remarks or interrogatories,
any gratification of her curiosity.

Having ineffectually put a score of questions
to Mrs. Bordley, I entered the deserted
apartments. The keys of closets and drawers
no where appeared, though the furniture was
arranged as usual. Inquiring of my companion
for these, Ay, said she, I had almost

[figure description] Page 104.[end figure description]

forgotten. The last thing she said before the
chair left the door, holding out a bunch of
keys to me, was, Give these to....there her
voice faultered, and I observed the tears flow.
I received the keys, and though she went
away without ending her sentence, I took
for granted it was you she meant.

I eagerly seized the keys, and hoped, by
their assistance, to find a clue to this labyrinth.
I opened the closets and drawers and turned
over their contents, but found no paper which
would give me the intelligence I wanted. No
script of any kind appeared; nothing but a
few napkins and sheets, and the like cumbrous
furniture. A writing-desk stood near the
wall, but blank paper, wafers, and quills, were
all that it contained. I desisted, at length,
from my unprofitable labour, and once more
renewed my inquiries of Mrs. Bordley.

She described the dress and form of the
young man who attended the fugitive. I
could not at first recognize in her description
any one whom I knew. His appearance bespoke
him to be a citizen, and he seemed to
have arrived from the city, as well as to return
thither. She dwelt with particular emphasis on

[figure description] Page 105.[end figure description]

the graces of the youth, and frequently insinuated
that a new gallant had supplanted the old.

For some time, I was deaf to these surmises;
but, at length, they insensibly revived
in my fancy, and acquired strength. I began
to account for appearances so as to justify
my suspicion. She had not informed me of
her motions; but that might arise from compunction
and shame. There might even be
something illicit in this new connection, to
which necessity might have impelled her.
The claims of Morton were made known to
her by me, but possibly they had been previously
imparted by himself. To shun that
poverty to which this discovery would again
reduce her, she listened to the offers of one,
whose opulence was able to relieve her wants.

The notion that her conduct was culpable,
vanished in a moment, and I abhorred myself
for harbouring it. I remembered all the
proofs of a pure and exalted mind, impatient
of contempt and poverty, but shrinking with
infinitely more reluctance from vice and turpitude,
which she had given. I called to mind
her treatment of a man, by name, Sedley, who
had formerly solicited her love, and this

[figure description] Page 106.[end figure description]

remembrance gave birth to a new conjecture
which subsequent reflection only tended to
confirm.

Sedley had contracted a passion for Mary
six or eight years ago. He was a man of excellent
morals, and heir to a great fortune.
He had patrimony in his own possession, and
had much to hope for from his parents. These
parents hated and reviled the object of their
son's affections merely because she was poor,
and their happiness seemed to depend on his
renouncing her. To this he would never consent,
and Mary might long ago have removed
all the evils of her situation, had she been willing
to accept Sedley's offers; but though she
had the highest esteem for his virtues, and
gratitude for his preference, her heart was
anothers. Besides, her notions of duty, were
unusually scrupulous. Her poverty had only
made her more watchful against any encroachments
on her dignity, and she disdained
to enter a family who thought themselves
degraded by her alliance.

Sedley was a vehement spirit. Opposition
whetted, rather than blunted his zeal; and
Mary's conduct, while it heightened his

[figure description] Page 107.[end figure description]

admiration and respect, gave new edge to his desires.
The youth whom she loved did not
admit a mutual affection, and his poverty
would have set marriage at an hopeless distance,
even if it had been conceived. Sedley,
therefore, believed himself the only one capable
of truly promoting her happiness, and persisted
in courting her favour longer and with
more constancy than might have been expected
from his ardent feelings and versatile age.

I need not repeat that Mary's affections
were mine. To Sedley, therefore, I was the
object of aversion and fear, and there never
took place between us intercourse sufficient to
subdue his prejudices. After her brother's
death, marriage was resolved upon between
us, and Sedley at length slackened the ardour
of his pursuit. Still, however, he would not
abjure her society.

Some secret revolution, perhaps, had been
wrought in the mind of my friend. Her consent
to marriage, had been extorted by me,
for she was almost equally averse to marriage
with one by whom she was not loved with
that warmth which she thought her due, as
with one who possessed every title to

[figure description] Page 108.[end figure description]

preference but her love. These scruples had been
laid aside in consideration of the benefit which
her brother's death, by giving her property,
enabled her to confer upon me who was destitute.
This benefit it was no longer in her
power to confer. She would consider herself
as severed from me forever, and in this state
a renewal of Sedley's importunities, might
subdue her reluctance. On comparing Mrs.
Bordley's description of the voice, features,
garb, and carriage of Mary's attendant, with
those of Sedley, I fancied I discovered a
strong resemblance between them. Some
other coincidences, which came to light in
the course of the day, made me certain as to
the person of her companion. It was Sedley
himself.

I was willing to gain all the knowledge of
this affair which was within reach. Sedley's
usual place of abode was his father's house in
Virginia, but he chiefly passed his time in Philadelphia,
where he resided with his sister,
who was a lady of great merit, and left, by her
husband's death, in opulent circumstances.
This lady had made frequent overtures of
friendship to Mary, but these had, for the most

[figure description] Page 109.[end figure description]

part, been declined. This reserve was not
wholly free from pride. A mistaken sensibility
made her shun those occasions for contempt
or insult which might occur in her intercourse
with the rich. The relation in which
she stood to Sedley was another impediment.
A just regard for his happiness compelled her
to exclude herself as much as possible from his
company. The kindness of Mrs. Valentine
had not been diverted by these scruples and
reserves, and some intercourse had taken place
between them before Mary's retirement to
Abingdon.

This change of views in my friend had
given me much disquiet, but some reflection
convinced me that it was a cause of rejoicing
rather than regret. Wedlock had been desired
by me, more from zeal for the happiness of another,
than for my own. I had lamented that
destiny which made the affections of three persons
merely the instruments of their misery,
and had exerted my influence to give a new
direction to my friend's passions. This undertaking
was no less delicate than arduous, and
no wonder, that in hands so unskilful as mine,
the attempt should fail. I could not be much

[figure description] Page 110.[end figure description]

displeased that this end was effected, though
I was somewhat mortified on finding that she
did not deem me worthy of being apprized of
her schemes. I reflected, however, that this
information might only be delayed; and imagined
a thousand plausible reasons which might
induce her to postpone intelligence so unexpected,
if not disagreeable to me.

Next morning I repaired to the city, and
to Mrs. Valentine's house. I inquired of a
female servant for Miss Wilmot, but was told
that she had been there, a few hours, on the
preceding Thursday, and had then gone, in
company with her mistress and Mr. Sedley,
to New-York. No time had been fixed for
their return, but Mrs. Valentine had said that
her absence might last for six or eight months.
The steward, who might afford me more information,
was out of town.

Thus my conjectures were confirmed; and
having no reason for further delay, I immediately
set out in the same road. My thoughts,
disembarrassed from all engagements with
Mary, persuaded of her union with Sedley,
and convinced that this union would more promote
her happiness than any other event, I

[figure description] Page 111.[end figure description]

returned without reluctance to Clara Howard.
I was impatient to compare those vague and
glittering conceptions which hovered in my
fancy, with the truth; therefore adopted the
swiftest conveyance, and arrived, in the evening
of the same day, at Powle's Hook ferry.

My excursions had hitherto been short and
rare, and the stage on which I was now entering,
abounded with novelty and grandeur.
The second city in our country was familiar to
my fancy by description, but my ideas were
disjointed and crude, and my attention was
busy in searching, in the objects which presented
themselves, for similitudes which were
seldom to be met with. A sort of tremulous,
but pleasing astonishment, overwhelmed me,
while I gazed through the twilight, on the
river and the city on the further shore. My
sensations of solemn and glowing expectation
chiefly flowed from the foresight of the circumstances
in which I was preparing to place
myself.

Men exist more for the future than the present.
Our being is never so intense and vivid,
if I may so speak, as when we are on the eve
of some anticipated revolution, momentous to

[figure description] Page 112.[end figure description]

our happiness. Our attention is attracted by
every incident that brings us nearer to the
change, and we are busy in marking the agreement
between objects as they rise before us,
and our previous imaginations. Thus it was
with me. My palpitations increased as I drew
near the house to which I had been directed,
and I could scarcely govern my emotions sufficiently
to inquire of the servant who appeared
to my summons, for Mrs. Howard.

I was ushered into a lighted parlour, and
presently a lady entered. She bore no marks
of having passed the middle age, and her countenance
exhibited the union of fortitude and
sweetness. Her air was full of dignity and
condescension. Methought I wanted no other
assurance but that which the sight of her conveyed,
that this was the wife of my friend.

I was thrown, by her entrance, into some
confusion, and was at a loss in what manner
to announce myself. The moment she caught
a distinct glance of my figure, her features expanded
into a smile, and offering her hand,
she exclaimed....Ahah! This, without doubt,
is the young friend whom we have so anxiously
looked for. Your name is Edward Hartley,

[figure description] Page 113.[end figure description]

and as such I welcome you, with the tenderness
of a mother, to this home. Turning to
a servant who followed her, she continued, call
Clara hither. Tell her that a friend has arrived.

Before I had time to comment on this abrupt
reception, the door was again opened. A
nymph, robed with the most graceful simplicity,
entered, and advancing towards me, offered
me her hand....Here, said the elder lady, is
the son and brother whom Mr. Howard promised
to procure for us. Welcome him, my
girl, as such.

Lifting her eyes from the floor, and casting
on me bashful but affectionate looks, the young
lady said, in an half-whisper, he is truly welcome...
and again offered the hand which, confounded
and embarrassed as I at first was, I
had declined to accept. Now, however, I was
less backward.

An unaffected and sprightly conversation
followed, that tended to banish those timidities
which were too apparent in my deportment.
Mrs. Howard entered into a gay and almost
humorous description of my person, such as
she had received before my arrival, and

[figure description] Page 114.[end figure description]

remarked the differences between the picture
and the original, intermingling questions,
which, compelling me to open my lips in answer
to them, helped me to get rid of my
aukwardness. Presently supper was prepared,
and dispatched with the utmost cheerfulness.

My astonishment and rapture were unspeakable.
Such condescension and familiarity,
surpassing all my fondest imaginations, from
beings invested with such dazzling superiority,
almost intoxicated my senses. My answers
were disadvantageous to myself, for they were
made in such a tumult and delirium of emotions,
that they could not fail of being incoherent
or silly.

Gradually these raptures subsided, and I
acted and spoke with more sobriety and confidence.
I had leisure also to survey the features
of my friends. Seated at opposite sides
of the table, with lights above and around us,
every lineament and gesture were distinctly
seen. It was difficult to say which person was
the most lovely. The bloom and glossiness
of youth had, indeed, disappeared in the elder,
but the ruddy tints and the smoothness of
health, joined to the most pathetic and

[figure description] Page 115.[end figure description]

intelligent expression, set the mother on a level, even
in personal attractions, with the daughter. No
music was ever more thrilling than the tones
of Clara. They sunk, deeply, into my heart,
while her eyes, casually turned on me, and
beaming with complacency, contributed still
more to enchant me.

In a few days, the effects of novelty gradually
disappearing, I began to find myself at
home. Mr. Howard's arrival, and the cordiality
of his behaviour, contributed still more
to place me at ease. Those employments he
designed for me, now occurred. They generally
engrossed the half of each day. They
were light, dispatched without toil, or anxiety,
and conduced, in innumerable ways, to my
pleasure and improvement. They introduced
me to men of different professions and characters,
called forth my ingenuity and knowledge,
and supplied powerful incitements to
new studies and inquiries.

At noon, the day's business was usually
dismissed, and the afternoon and evening were
devoted to intellectual and social occupations.
These were generally partaken by the ladies,
and visits were received and paid so rarely, as

[figure description] Page 116.[end figure description]

to form no interruption to domestic pleasures.
Collected round the fire, and busied in music
or books, or discourse, the hours flew away
with unheeded rapidity. The contrast which
this scene bore to my past life, perpetually recurred
to my reflections, and added new and
inexpressible charms to that security and elegance
by which I was at present surrounded.

Clara was the companion of my serious
and my sportive hours. I found, in her character,
simplicity and tenderness, united to
powerful intellects. The name of children
was often conferred upon us by my friend and
his wife; all advances to familiarity and confidence
between us were encouraged; our little
plans of walking or studying together were
sanctioned by smiles of approbation, and their
happiness was evidently imperfect while ours
was suspended or postponed.

In this intercourse, there was nothing to
hinder the growth of that sentiment, which is
so congenial with virtuous and youthful bosoms.
My chief delight was in sharing the
society and performing offices of kindness for
Clara, and this delight the frankness of her
nature readily shewed to be mutual. Love

[figure description] Page 117.[end figure description]

was not avowed or solicited, and did not frequently
recur, in an undisguised shape, to my
thoughts. My desires seemed to be limited
to her presence, and to participating her occupations
and amusements. Satisfied in like
manner with this, no marks of impatience or
anxiety were ever betrayed by her, but in my
absence.

The fulness of content which I now experienced,
did not totally exclude the remembrance
of Mary. I had heard and seen nothing
of Morton since my departure from Hatfield.
The only way of accounting for this, was to
suppose that Mary and he had met, and that
the former, persuaded of the equity of his
claim, had resigned to him the money which
he had remitted to her brother.

The silence which she had observed, involved
me in the deepest perplexity. I spared
no pains to discover Mrs. Valentine's residence,
but my pains were fruitless. My inquiries
rendered it certain that, at least, no
such person resided in New-York.

Thus occupied, the winter passed away.
On a mild, but blustering evening in March,
I happened to be walking, in company with

[figure description] Page 118.[end figure description]

Clara, on the battery. I chanced, after some
time, to spy before me, coming in an opposite
direction, the man whose fate had engaged so
much of my attention. It was Morton himself.
On seeing me, he betrayed much satisfaction,
but no surprise. We greeted each other affectionately.
Observing that he eyed my companion
with particular earnestness, I introduced
him to her.

This meeting was highly desirable, as I
hoped to collect from it an explication of what
had hitherto been a source of perplexity. I
likewise marked a cheerfulnes in my friend's
deportment, which shewed that some favourable
change had taken place. He seemed no
less anxious than I for a confidential interview;
and an appointment of a meeting on the same
evening was accordingly made.

Having conducted Clara home, I hastened
to the place appointed. I was forthwith ushered
into a parlour, where Morton was found in
company with a lady of graceful and pensive
mein, with a smiling babe in her arms, to whom
he introduced me as to his wife. This incident
confirmed my favourable prognostics, and
I waited, with impatience, till the lady's

[figure description] Page 119.[end figure description]

departure removed all constraint from our conversation.

In a short time, she left us alone. I congratulate
you, said I, on your reunion with
your family, but cannot help expressing my surprise
that you never favoured me with a second
visit, or gave me any intelligence of your good
fortune.

He apologized for his neglect, by saying,
that the arrival of his wife and daughter, in
New-York, obliged him, shortly after our interview,
to hasten to this city, where successive
engagements had detained him till now.
He was, nevertheless, extremely desirous of a
meeting, and intended, as soon as pleasant
weather should return, to go to Hatfield, on
purpose to see me. This meeting, however,
had fortunately occurred to preclude the necessity
of that journey. He then inquired
into the health of miss Wilmot, and her present
situation. I was anxious to see her, he
continued, on account of that affair, on which
we conversed at our last meeting. As her
brother's friend, I was, likewise, desirous of
seeing her, and tendering her any service in
my power, but when taking measures to bring

[figure description] Page 120.[end figure description]

about an interview, I received a letter from
my wife, who, to my infinite surprise and satisfaction,
had embarked for America, and
arrived safely at New-York. My eagerness
to see my family, made me postpone this interview
for the present, and one engagement has
since so rapidly succeeded another, that I have
never been at leisure to execute this design.

What, said I, has no meeting taken place
between Mary Wilmot and you? Has she not
restored the money you claimed?

Surely, replied he, you cannot be ignorant
that I have never received it. I doubted whether
I ought to receive it, even if my title were
good. It was chiefly to become acquainted
with her, that I looked for her, and my good
fortune has since enabled me to dispense with
any thing else. The property, left by her brother,
may rightfully belong to her, notwithstanding
present appearances. At any rate,
her possession shall be unmolested by me.

He then proceeded to inform me, that his
wife's parents being deceived by his long silence,
and the intelligence of his shipwreck,
into the opinion of his death, had relented, and
settled an independent and liberal pension on

[figure description] Page 121.[end figure description]

their daughter, on condition of her chusing
some abode at a distance from them. She
proposed to retire, with her child, to some
neat and rural abode in Cornwall, and was on
the point of executing this design, when letters
were received from her husband, at Algiers,
which assured her of his safety, and requested
her to embark for America, where it was his
intention to meet her. She had instantly
changed her plans, and selling her annuity on
good terms, had transported herself and her
property to New-York, were her husband being
apprised of her arrival, hastened to join
her.

Thus, continued Morton, you have, in my
destiny, a striking instance of the folly of despair.
My shipwreck, and my long absence,
in circumstances which hindered all intercourse
between me and my family, were the
most propitious events that could have happened.
Nothing but the belief of my death,
and the consequent distresses of my wife,
could have softened the animosity of her parents.
Her disobedience, they though, had
been amply punished, and fate having taken
from me, the power of receiving any

[figure description] Page 122.[end figure description]

advantage from their gift, they consented to make
her future life secure, at least, from want.

It was also lucky, that their returning
affection stopped just where it did. Their resentment
was still so powerful as to make
them refuse to see her, and to annex to their
gift, the stern condition of residing at a distance
from them. Hence she was enabled to
embark for America, without detecting their
mistake, as to my death. They carefully shut
their ears against all intelligence of her condition,
whether direct or indirect, and will
probably pass their lives in ignorance of that,
which, if known, would only revive their upbraidings
and regrets.

I am not sorry for the hardships I have
indured. They are not unpleasing to remembrance,
and serve to brighten and endear the
enjoyments of my present state, by contrast
with former sufferings. I have enough for the
kind of life which I prefer to all others, and
have no desire to enlarge my stock. Meanwhile,
I am anxious for the welfare of miss Wilmot,
and shall rejoice in having been, though
undesignedly, the means of her prosperity.

[figure description] Page 123.[end figure description]

I heard, in Philadelphia, that a marriage
was on foot between her and you. I flattered
myself, when I met you this evening, that
your companion was she, and secretly congratulated
you on the possession of so much
gracefulness and beauty. In this, it seems, I
was partly mistaken. This is a person very
different from Mary Wilmot; but a friend,
whom I met, shortly after parting from you,
and to whom I described her, assured me that
this was the object of your choice. Pray, what
has become of miss Wilmot?

I frankly confessed to him, my ignorance
of her condition, and related what had formerly
been the relation between her and us. I
expressed my surprise at finding that she was
still in possession of the money, after the representations
I had made; and at the silence she
had so long observed.

When I recollected in what manner, and in
whose company, she had left Abingdon, I
could not shut out some doubts, as to her integrity.
She was, indeed, mistress of her own
actions, and Sedley was not unworthy of her
choice; but her neglect of my letter, and her
keeping this money, were suspicious

[figure description] Page 124.[end figure description]

accompanyments. This belief was too painful, to
attain my ready acquiescence, and I occasionally
consoled myself, by imagining her conduct
to proceed from some misapprehension,
on the one or other part. Mrs. Valentine's
reputation was unspotted, and under her guardianship,
it was scarcely possible for any injury
to approach my friend's person or morals.

My anxiety to discover the truth, was now
increased. After being so long accustomed
to partake her cares, and watch over her safety,
I could not endure this profound ignorance.
I was even uncertain, as to her existence. It
was impossible, but that my friendship would
be of some benefit. My sympathy could not
fail to alleviate her sorrow, or enhance her
prosperity.

But what means had I of removing this
painful obscurity. I knew not which way to
look for her. My discoveries must be wholly
fortuitous.

Notwithstanding my own enjoyments, I
allowed the image of Mary Wilmot to intrude
into my thoughts too frequently. Some change
in my temper was discerned by Clara, and she
inquired into the cause. At first, I was

[figure description] Page 125.[end figure description]

deterred by indefinite scruples, from unfolding
the cause, but some reflection shewed me that
I was wrong, in so long concealing from her,
a transaction of this moment. I, therefore,
seized a favourable opportunity, and recounted
all the incidents of my life, connected with this
poor fugitive.

When I began, however, I was not aware
of the embarrassment which I was preparing to
suffer and inflict. We used to sit up much
longer than our friends, and after they had
retired to repose, taking their places on the
sofa, allowed the embers to die gradually away,
while we poured forth, unrestrained, the effusions
of the moment. It was on one of these
occasions that, after a short preface, I began
my story. I detailed the origin of my intercourse
with miss Wilmot, the discovery of her
passion for me, the contest between that passion
and my indifference on one side, and the
claims and solicitations of Sedley on the other.
I was listened to with the deepest emotion.
Curiosity enabled her to stifle it for some time;
but when I came to the events of Wilmot's
death, the discovery of his property, and the
consequent agreement to marry, she was able

[figure description] Page 126.[end figure description]

to endure the recital no longer. She burst into
tears, and articulated with difficulty: Enough,
my friend, I know the rest. I know what you
would say. Your melancholy is explained,
and I see that my fate is fixed in eternal misery.

I was at once shocked, astonished, and delighted,
by the discovery which was thus made,
and made haste, by recounting subsequent
transactions, to correct her error. She did
not draw the same inferences from the flight
and silence of the girl, or drew them with less
confidence than I. She was not consoled by
my avowals of passion for herself, and declared
that she considered my previous contract as
inviolable. Nothing could absolve me from it,
but the absolute renunciation of miss Wilmot
herself.

I considered the disappearance and silence
of Mary, as a sufficient renunciation of her
claims, and once more dwelt upon the scruples
and objections which she had formerly raised
to our alliance; which had been, imperfectly,
and for a time, removed by the death of her
brother, and which, Morton's arrival, had restored
to their original strength. Some regard,

[figure description] Page 127.[end figure description]

likewise, was due to my own felicity, and to
that of one whose happiness deserved to be as
zealously promoted as that of the fugitive. It
was true, that I had tendered vows to miss
Wilmot, which my understanding, and not my
heart; which gratitude, and not affection, had
dictated. This tender, in the circumstances in
which I was then placed, was necessary and
proper; but these circumstances had now
changed. My offer had been tacitly rejected.
Not only my love, but my friendship, had been
slighted and despised. My affections had never
been devoted to another, and the sacrifice
of inclination was limited to myself. This
indifference, however, existed no more. It was
supplanted by a genuine and ardent attachment
for one in all respects more worthy. I was
willing to hope that this attachment was mutual.
Fortune and her parents, and her own
heart, were all propitious to my love; and to
stifle and thwart it for the sake of one, who had
abjured my society and my friendship; who
renounced my proffered hand, and cancelled
all my promises; who had possibly made herself
unworthy of my esteem, by the forfeiture
of honour itself, or more probably had given

[figure description] Page 128.[end figure description]

up all her claims on my justice and compassion,
by accepting another, would be, in the highest
degree, absurd and unjustifiable.

These arguments wrought no effect upon
Clara. It was her duty, she answered, to contend
with selfish regards, and to judge of the
feelings of others by her own. Whatever
reluctance she might experience in resigning
me to another, in whatever degree she might
thwart the wishes and schemes of her parents,
it was her duty to resign me, and she should
derive more satisfaction from disinterested,
than from selfish conduct. She would not
attempt to disguise her feelings and wishes,
and extenuate the sacrifice she was called on
to make, but she had no doubt as to what was
right, and her resolution to adhere to it would
be immovable.

This resolution, and this inflexibility, were
wholly unexpected. I was astonished and
mortified, and having exhausted all my arguments
in vain, gave way to some degree of
acrimony and complaint, as if I were capriciously
treated. At one time, I had thoughts
of calling her parents to my aid, and explaining
to them my situation with regard to Mary,

[figure description] Page 129.[end figure description]

and soliciting them to exert their authority in
my behalf with Clara.

A deep and incurable sadness now appeared
in my friend, and strong, though unostentatious
proofs were daily afforded, that an
exquisite sense of justice had dictated her
deportment, and that she had laid upon herself
a task to which her fortitude was scarcely
equal. It appeared to me the highest cruelty
to aggravate the difficulty of this task, by enlisting
against her those whose authority she
most revered, and whose happiness she was
most desirous of promoting.

My eagerness to trace miss Wilmost to
her retreat, to find out her condition, and make
her, if possible, my advocate with Clara, was
increased by this unhappy resolution. I began
to meditate anew upon the best means of effecting
this. I blamed myself for having so long
failed to employ all the means in my power,
and resolved to begin my search without
delay. Clara, whose conclusions respecting
miss Wilmot's motives were far more charitable
than mine, was no less earnest in inciting
me to this pursuit. She believed miss
Wilmot's conduct to have been consistent with

[figure description] Page 130.[end figure description]

integrity, that it flowed from a generous but
erroneous self-denial, and that the re-establishment
of intercourse between us, would
terminate in the happiness of both.

The incidents formerly related, had made
it certain that miss Wilmot had flown away in
company with Sedley. Sedley's patrimony
and fixed abode were in Virginia. There, it
was most probable, that he and the fugitive
would be found. There, at least, should Sedley
have abandoned his ancient residence,
was it most likely that the means of tracing
his footsteps, would be found. Mary, if not
at present in his company, or in that of his
sister, had not perhaps concealed her asylum
from them, and might be discovered by their
means. Fortunately, Mr. Howard had engagements
at Richmond which would shortly
require his own presence, or that of one in
whom he could confide. He had mentioned
this necessity in my presence in such a way as
shewed that he would not be unwilling to
transfer his business to me. Hitherto I had
been unwilling to relinquish my present situation;
but now I begged to be entrusted with

[figure description] Page 131.[end figure description]

his commission, as it agreed with my own
projects.

In a few days I set out upon this journey.
Passing, necessarily, at no great distance from
Hatfield, I took that opportunity of visiting
my uncle and sisters. You may imagine my
surprise on finding, at my uncle's house, a
letter for me, from Mary, which had arrived
there just after my departure, in the preceding
autumn, and had lain, during the whole
winter, neglected and forgotten, in a drawer.

This letter was worthy of my friend's
generous and indignant spirit, and fully accounted
for her flight from Abingdon. She
was determined to separate herself from me,
to die in some obscure recess, whither I
should never be able to trace her, and thus to
remove every obstacle in the way of my pretentions
to one, younger, lovlier and richer
than herself. In this letter was enclosed an
order for the money, which, as I had taught
her too hastily to believe, belonged to another.

I believe you know that I am not a selfish
or unfeeling wretch. What but the deepest
regret, could I feel at the ignorance in which I

[figure description] Page 132.[end figure description]

had so long been kept of her destiny; what, but
vehement impatience to discover the place of
her retreat, and persuade her to accept my
vows, or, at least, to take back the money to
which Morton's title was not yet proved,
which would save her at least from the horrors
of that penury she was so little qualified
to endure, and to which, for more than six
inclement months, she had been, through unhappy
misapprehension, subjected?

In this mood I hastened to this city, but
my heroism quickly evaporated. I felt no
abatement of my eagerness to benefit the unhappy
fugitive, by finding her; counselling
her; consoling her; repossessing her of the
means of easy, if not of affluent subsistence;
but more than this I felt myself incapable of
offering. I knew full well, that, when acquainted
with the whole truth, she never
would accept me as hers; but I despaired of
gaining any thing with respect to Clara, by
that rejection. I despaired of ever lighting
again on miss Wilmot. Besides, my pride
was piqued and wounded by resolutions that
appeared to me absurd; to arise from prejudiced
views and a narrow heart; from

[figure description] Page 133.[end figure description]

unreasonable regards bestowed upon one, of whose
merits she had no direct knowledge, and blamable
indifference to another whom she had
abundant reason to love.

The letters that passed between us only
tended to convince me that she was implacable,
and I left the city for Virginia with a
secret determination of never returning. I
resolved to solicit Mr. Howard's permission
to accompany some surveyors employed by
him, who were to pass immediately into the
western country. By this means, I hoped to
shake off fetters that were now become badges
of misery and ignominy.

The wisdom of man, when employed upon
the future, is incessantly taught its own weakness.
Had an angel whispered me, as I
mounted the stage for Baltimore, that I should
go no further on that journey than Schuylkill,
and that, without any new argument or effort
on my part, Clara would, of her own accord,
call me back to her and to happiness, I should
no doubt have discredited the intimation.
Yet such was the event.

In order to rescue a drowning passenger,
I leaped into the river. The weather being

[figure description] Page 134.[end figure description]

bleak and unwholesome, I was seized, shortly
after my coming out, with a fever, which reduced
me, in a very few days, to the brink of
the grave. Now was the solicitude of my
Clara awakened. When in danger of losing
me forever, she discovered the weakness of
her scruples, and effectually recalled me to
life, by entreating me to live for her sake.

I have not yet perfectly recovered my
usual health. I am unfit for business or for
travelling; and standing in need of some
amusement which will relieve, without fatiguing
my attention, I called to mind your
claims on me, and determined to give you the
account you desired.

When I received your letter, informing
me of your design to meet me in New-York,
I was utterly dispirited and miserable. My
design of coming southward, I knew, would
prevent an immediate meeting with you, and
as I had then conceived the project of a journey
to the western waters, I imagined that
we should never have another meeting.

Now, my friend, my prospects are brighter,
and I hope to greet you the moment of your
arrival in New-York. I shall go thither as

[figure description] Page 135.[end figure description]

soon as I am able. I shall never repose till my
happiness with Clara is put beyond the power
of man to defeat.

But, alas! what has become of Mary Wilmot.
Heaven grant that she be safe. While
unacquainted with her destiny, my happiness
will never be complete; day and night I torment
myself with fruitless conjectures about
her. Yet she went away with Sedley, a man
of honour, and her lover, and with his sister,
whose integrity cannot be questioned. With
these she cannot be in danger, or in poverty.
This reflection consoles me.

I long to see you, my friend. I hope to be
of some service to you. You will see, by this
long detail, that fortune has been kind to me.
Indeed, when I take a view of the events of
the last year, I cannot find language for my
wonder. My blessings are so numerous and
exorbitant, my merits so slender.

I wish thee patience to carry thee to the
end of this long letter.

Adieu.