Ferdinand! Write only one word to your own

Henrietta.

_Ferdinand to Henrietta_.

Sweetest, dearest Henrietta!

I am quite well, and love you, if that could be, more than ever.
Darling, to send to see after her Ferdinand! A wet jacket, and I
experienced no greater evil, does not frighten me. The storm was
magnificent; I would not have missed it for the world. But I regret it
now, because my Henrietta did not sleep. Sweetest love, let me come on
to you! Your page is inexorable. He will not let me write another line.
God bless you, my Henrietta, my beloved, my matchless Henrietta! Words
cannot tell you how I love you, how I dote upon you, my darling. Thy

Ferdinand.

_Henrietta to Ferdinand._

No! you must not come here. It would be unwise, it would be silly.
We could only be together a moment, and, though a moment with you is
heaven, I cannot endure again the agony of parting. O Ferdinand! what
has that separation not cost me! Pangs that I could not conceive any
human misery could occasion. My Ferdinand, may we some day be happy! It
seems to me now that happiness can never come again. And yet I ought to
be grateful that he was uninjured last night. I dared not confess to
you before what evils I anticipated. Do you know I was so foolish that
I thought every flash of lightning must descend on your head. I dare
not now own how foolish I was. God be praised that he is well. But is he
sure that he is _quite_ well? If you have the slightest cold, dearest,
do not move. Postpone that journey on which all our hopes are fixed.
Colds bring fever. But you laugh at me; you are a man and a soldier; you
laugh at a woman's caution.

Ohl my Ferdinand, I am so selfish that I should not care if you were
ill, if I might only be your nurse. What happiness, what exquisite
happiness, would that be!

Do not be angry with your Henrietta, but I am nervous about concealing
our engagement from papa. What I have promised I will perform, fear not
that; I will never deceive you, no, not even for your fancied benefit;
but I feel the burthen of this secrecy more than I can express, more
than I wish to express. I do not like to say anything that can annoy
you, especially at this moment, when I feel from my own heart how you
must require all the support and solace of unbroken fondness. I have
such confidence in your judgment, my Ferdinand, that I feel convinced
you have acted wisely; but come back as soon as you can. I know it m