s' love to the deceased.

The clothes, the thirty guineas for mourning to Mrs. Norton, with the
recommendation of the good woman for housekeeper at The Grove, were
thought sufficient, had the article of 600L. which was called monstrous,
been omitted. Some other passages in the will were called flights, and
such whimsies as distinguish people of imagination from those of
judgment.

My cousin Dolly Hervey was grudged the library. Miss Harlowe said, That
as she and her sister never bought the same books, she would take that
to herself, and would make it up to her cousin Dolly one way or other.

I intend, Mr. Belford, to save you the trouble of interposing--the
library shall be my cousin Dolly's.

Mrs. Hervey could hardly keep her seat. On this occasion, however, she
only said, That her late dear and ever dear niece, was too glad to her
and hers. But, at another time, she declared, with tears, that she could
not forgive herself for a letter she wrote,* looking at Miss Arabella,
whom, it seems, unknown to any body, she had consulted before she wrote
it and which, she said, must have wounded a spirit, that now she saw had
been too deeply wounded before.

* See Vol. III. Letter LII.

O my Aunt, said Arabella, no more of that!--Who would have thought that
the dear creature had been such a penitent?

Mr. John and Mr. Antony Harlowe were so much affected with the articles
in their favour, (bequeathed to them without a word or hint of reproach
or recrimination,) that they broke out into self-accusations; and
lamented that their sweet niece, as they called her, was not got above
all grateful acknowledgement and returns. Indeed, the mutual upbraidings
and grief of all present, upon those articles in which every one was
remembered for good, so often interrupted me, that the reading took up
above six hours. But curses upon the accursed man were a refuge to which
they often resorted to exonerate themselves.

How wounding a thing, Mr. Belford, is a generous and well-distinguished
forgiveness! What revenge can be more effectual, and more noble, were
revenge intended, and were it wished to strike remorse into a guilty or
ungrateful heart! But my dear cousin's motives were all duty and love.
She seems indeed to have been, as much as a mortal could be, LOVE itself.
Love sublimed by a purity, by a true delicacy, that hardly any woman
before her could boast of. O Mr. Belford, what an example would she have
given in every