st that of the
French have been, who were absolutely shut up six months from the rest
of the world?

I can scarce conceive a higher delight than they must have felt at
being thus restored to a communication with mankind.

The letters are not delivered; our servant stays for them at the
post-office; we expect him every moment: if I have not volumes from
you, I shall be very angry.

He comes. Adieu! I have not patience to wait their being brought up
stairs.

Yours,
A. Fermor.

They are here; six letters from you; I shall give three of them to
Emily to read, whilst I read the rest: you are very good, Lucy, and I
will never call you lazy again.

LETTER 141.

To Miss Fermor, at Silleri.

Pall Mall, April 8.

Whilst I was sealing my letter, I received yours of the 1st of
February.

I am excessively alarmed, my dear, at the account it gives me of
Miss Montague's having broke with her lover, and of my brother's
extreme affection for her.

I did not dare to let my mother see that letter, as I am convinced
the very idea of a marriage which must for ever separate her from a son
she loves to idolatry, would be fatal to her; she is altered since his
leaving England more than you can imagine; she is grown pale and thin,
her vivacity has entirely left her. Even my marriage scarce seemed to
give her pleasure; yet such is her delicacy, her ardor for his
happiness, she will not suffer me to say this to him, lest it should
constrain him, and prevent his making himself happy in his own way. I
often find her in tears in her apartment; she affects a smile when she
sees me, but it is a smile which cannot deceive one who knows her whole
soul as I do. In short, I am convinced she will not live long unless my
brother returns. She never names him without being softened to a
degree not to be expressed.

Amiable and lovely as you represent this charming woman, and great
as the sacrifice is she has made to my brother, it seems almost cruelty
to wish to break his attachment to her; yet, situated as they are, what
can be the consequence of their indulging their tenderness at present,
but ruin to both?

At all events, however, my dear, I intreat, I conjure you, to press
my brother's immediate return to England; I am convinced, my mother's
life depends on seeing him.

I have often been tempted to write to Miss Montague, to use her
influence with him even against herself.

If she loves him, she will have his