I have made my own reflections on the letter you enclosed to me,
my Dear Charlotte and I will now tell you what those reflections
were. I reflected that if by this second Marriage Sir George
should have a second family, our fortunes must be considerably
diminushed--that if his Wife should be of an extravagant turn,
she would encourage him to persevere in that gay and Dissipated
way of Life to which little encouragement would be necessary, and
which has I fear already proved but too detrimental to his health
and fortune--that she would now become Mistress of those Jewels
which once adorned our Mother, and which Sir George had always
promised us--that if they did not come into Perthshire I should
not be able to gratify my curiosity of beholding my Mother-in-law
and that if they did, Matilda would no longer sit at the head of
her Father's table--. These my dear Charlotte were the
melancholy reflections which crowded into my imagination after
perusing Susan's letter to you, and which instantly occurred to
Matilda when she had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the
same fears, immediately occupied her Mind, and I know not which
reflection distressed her most, whether the probable Diminution
of our Fortunes, or her own Consequence. We both wish very much
to know whether Lady Lesley is handsome and what is your opinion
of her; as you honour her with the appellation of your freind, we
flatter ourselves that she must be amiable. My Brother is
already in Paris. He intends to quit it in a few Days, and to
begin his route to Italy. He writes in a most chearfull manner,
says that the air of France has greatly recovered both his Health
and Spirits; that he has now entirely ceased to think of Louisa
with any degree either of Pity or Affection, that he even feels
himself obliged to her for her Elopement, as he thinks it very