n
dreadfully disordered, and every thing I ate or drank disagreed with my
stomach; still I feel intimations of its existence, though they have been
fainter.

Do you think that the creature goes regularly to sleep? I am ready to ask
as many questions as Voltaire's Man of Forty Crowns. Ah! do not continue
to be angry with me! You perceive that I am already smiling through my
tears--You have lightened my heart, and my frozen spirits are melting
into playfulness.

Write the moment you receive this. I shall count the minutes. But drop
not an angry word--I cannot now bear it. Yet, if you think I deserve a
scolding (it does not admit of a question, I grant), wait till you come
back--and then, if you are angry one day, I shall be sure of seeing you
the next.

------ did not write to you, I suppose, because he talked of going to
H----. Hearing that I was ill, he called very kindly on me, not dreaming
that it was some words that he incautiously let fall, which rendered me
so.

God bless you, my love; do not shut your heart against a return of
tenderness; and, as I now in fancy cling to you, be more than ever my
support.--Feel but as affectionate when you read this letter, as I did
writing it, and you will make happy, your

* * * *

* * * * *

LETTER XII.

Wednesday Morning.

I WILL never, if I am not entirely cured of quarrelling, begin to
encourage "quick-coming fancies," when we are separated. Yesterday, my
love, I could not open your letter for some time; and, though it was not
half as severe as I merited, it threw me into such a fit of trembling, as
seriously alarmed me. I did not, as you may suppose, care for a little
pain on my own account; but all the fears which I have had for a few days
past, returned with fresh force. This morning I am better; will you not
be glad to hear it? You perceive that sorrow has almost made a child of
me, and that I want to be soothed to peace.

One thing you mistake in my character, and imagine that to be coldness
which is just the contrary. For, when I am hurt by the person most dear
to me, I must let out a whole torrent of emotions, in which tenderness
would be uppermost, or stifle them altogether; and it appears to me
almost a duty to stifle them, when I imagine _that I am treated with
coldness_.

I am afraid that I have vexed you, my own ----. I know the quickness of
your feelings--and let me, in the sincerity of my heart, assure you,
there i