ysician, with nurses to watch me night
and day. For three weeks I was in a state of delirium; and when I
regained my senses, it was only to renew the anguish which had
caused my disorder, and I felt any sentiment except gratitude for my
recovery.

My dear Clara had never quitted me during my confinement. I had taken
no medicine but from her hand. I asked her to give me some account of
what had happened. She told me that Talbot was gone--that my father
had seen Mr Somerville, who had informed him that Emily had received
a long letter from Eugenia, narrating every circumstance, exculpating
me, and accusing herself. Emily had wept over it, but still remained
firm in her resolution never to see me more--"And I am afraid, my dear
brother," said Clara, "that her resolution will not be very easily
altered. You know her character, and you should know something about
our sex; but sailors, they say, go round the world without going into
it. This is the only shadow of an excuse I can form for you, much as I
love and esteem you. You have hurt Emily in the nicest point, that in
which we are all the most susceptible of injury. You have wounded her
pride, which our sex rarely, if ever, forgive. At the very moment she
supposed you were devoted to her--that you were wrapped up in the
anticipation of calling her your own, and counting the minutes with
impatience until the happy day arrived; with all this persuasion
on her mind, she comes upon you, as the traveller out of the wood
suddenly comes upon the poisonous snake in his path, and cannot avoid
it. She found you locked hand-in-hand with another, a fortnight before
marriage, and with the fruits of unlawful love in your arms. What
woman could forgive this? I would not, I assure you. If Tal---, I mean
if any man were to serve me so, I would tear him from my heart,
even if the dissolution of the whole frame was to be the certain
consequence. I consider it a kindness to tell you, Frank, that you
have no hope. Much as you have and will suffer, she, poor girl, will
suffer more; and, although she will never accept you, she will not let
your place be supplied by another, but sink, broken-hearted, into her
grave. You, like all other men, will forget this; but what a warning
ought it to be to you, that, sooner or later, guilt will be productive
of misery! This you have fully proved: your licentious conduct with
this woman has ruined her peace for ever, and Divine vengeance has
dashed from your