RS. LUCY SUMNER.

HARTFORD.

Dear Lucy: I intended this week to have journeyed to Boston with Julia
Granby; but my resolution fails me. I find it painful even to think of
mixing again with the gay multitude. I believe the melancholy
reflections by which I am oppressed will be more effectually, if not
more easily, surmounted by tarrying where they are rendered familiar,
than by going from them awhile and then returning.

Julia will therefore go without me. I envy her no enjoyment there,
except your company.

The substitution of friendship, in the place of love, for Major Sanford,
I find productive of agreeable sensations. With him, he assures me, it
is a far more calm and rational pleasure. _He_ treats me with the
affection and tenderness of a brother, and his _wife,_ who exceeds him
in professions of regard, with all the consoling softness and attention
of a sister. Indeed, their politeness has greatly contributed to revive
the cheerfulness of my natural disposition. I believe the major's former
partiality to me as a lover is entirely obliterated; and for my part, I
feel as little restraint in his company and his lady's as in that of any
other in the neighborhood.

I very much regret the departure of Julia, and hope you will permit her
to return to me again as soon as possible. She is a valuable friend. Her
mind is well cultivated, and she has treasured up a fund of knowledge
and information which renders her company both agreeable and useful in
every situation of life. We lately spent the afternoon and evening at
Mr. Smith's. They had a considerable number of visitants, and among the
rest Major Sanford. His wife was expected, but did not come, being
indisposed.

I believe, my friend, you must excuse me if my letters are shorter than
formerly. Writing is not so agreeable to me as it used to be. I love my
friends as well as ever, but I think they must be weary of the gloom and
dulness which pervade my present correspondence. When my pen shall have
regained its original fluency and alertness, I will resume and prolong
the pleasing task.

I am, my dear Lucy, yours most affectionately,

ELIZA WHARTON.

LETTER LX.

TO THE SAME.

HARTFORD.

Dear madam: Agreeably to your desire every art has been tried, every
allurement held out, every argument used, and every plan adopted, which
Mrs. Wharton and I could devise to induce Eliza to accompany me to
Boston; but all in vain. Sometimes she has been almost persua