oon after Mr. Stevens of Fawley came, and I conducted him into my
mother's chamber. At his approach to her, he was so overwhelmed with
grief, that he could not speak a word. She took him by the hand, and
said, "I am glad to see you, my dear brother. You must help to comfort
your poor niece, who will stand in need of your assistance. Never
forsake her, my dear brother. All that gives me pain in death is the
leaving of her behind me." Then turning to me, "Your uncle Jack, my
dear, will take care of you, and look on you as his own," At which Mr.
Stevens took hold of his sister's and niece's hands, and, with tears,
told 'em both he would. Then turning about, he asked me if the
physician was not yet come? My mother said, "They would send for him,
but he could be of no service to her"; giving her brother at the same
time such reasons for her despondency as convinced him, that there
were little or no hopes of her recovery. He found himself so moved at
this, that he was obliged to go down stairs, and retire to my father
and Mr. Henry Stevens, who were at that time both in the parlour. The
physician, Dr. Addington, of Reading, soon arrived, and went directly
to my mother's room. When he came in, she showed him the inflammation
and swelling on her bowels. He prescribed her some physic, to be taken
once in every two hours, and ordered her to be blooded immediately.
Her bowels also, according to his direction, were to be fomented and
poulticed once in every four hours. This operation I took upon myself,
and punctually performed it. I also gave her every medicine she took
till she was at the point of death, and I myself was forced to be
carried out of the room in a fit. Dr. Addington, before he prescribed
anything, went with me out of the room, and told me he was afraid he
could do nothing for her; repeating the same afterwards both to my
father and my two uncles. Notwithstanding which, he thought fit to
order the above mentioned poultices and fomentations; which, according
to his direction, were applied, tho' without producing any good
effect. In fine, my dear mother died Sept. 30, 1749, about nine
o'clock at night.

For six months preceding her sickness, or thereabouts, being the
interval between her last departure from London and the time her
indisposition seized her, my mother never saw Mr. Cranstoun; tho' I
constantly, and even almost every post, corresponded with him. It must
here be observed, that Lady Cranstoun had wrote to