ill disturb my prayers and wishes for your happiness which only can
make mine. Your journey cannot be to your disadvantage neither; you must
needs be pleased to visit a place you are so much concerned in, and to
be a witness yourself of your hopes, though I will believe you need no
other inducements to this voyage than my desiring it. I know you love
me, and you have no reason to doubt my kindness. Let us both have
patience to wait what time and fortune will do for us; they cannot
hinder our being perfect friends.

Lord, there were a thousand things I remembered after you were gone that
I should have said, and now I am to write not one of them will come into
my head. Sure as I live it is not settled yet! Good God! the fears and
surprises, the crosses and disorders of that day, 'twas confused enough
to be a dream, and I am apt to think sometimes it was no more. But no, I
saw you; when I shall do it again, God only knows! Can there be a
romancer story than ours would make if the conclusion prove happy? Ah! I
dare not hope it; something that I cannot describe draws a cloud over
all the light my fancy discovers sometimes, and leaves me so in the dark
with all my fears about me that I tremble to think on't. But no more of
this sad talk.

Who was that, Mr. Dr. told you I should marry? I cannot imagine for my
life; tell me, or I shall think you made it to excuse yourself. Did not
you say once you knew where good French tweezers were to be had? Pray
send me a pair; they shall cut no love. Before you go I must have a ring
from you, too, a plain gold one; if I ever marry it shall be my wedding
ring; when I die I'll give it you again. What a dismal story this is you
sent me; but who could expect better from a love begun upon such
grounds? I cannot pity neither of them, they were both so guilty. Yes,
they are the more to be pitied for that.

Here is a note comes to me just now, will you do this service for a fine
lady that is my friend; have not I taught her well, she writes better
than her mistress? How merry and pleased she is with her marrying
because there is a plentiful fortune; otherwise she would not value the
man at all. This is the world; would you and I were out of it: for,
sure, we were not made to live in it. Do you remember Arme and the
little house there? Shall we go thither? that's next to being out of the
world. There we might live like Baucis and Philemon, grow old together
in our little cottage, and for our char