Mrs. Smith wept.

I then gave over the hope of seeing her for this time, I was extremely
chagrined at my disappointment, and at the account they gave of her ill
health.

Would to Heaven, said I, she would put it in my power to repair her
wrongs! I have been an ungrateful wretch to her. I need not tell you,
Mrs. Lovick, how much I have injured her, nor how much she suffers by her
relations' implacableness, Mrs. Smith, that cuts her to the heart. Her
family is the most implacable family on earth; and the dear creature, in
refusing to see me, and to be reconciled to me, shows her relation to
them a little too plainly.

O Sir, said the widow, not one syllable of what you say belongs to this
lady. I never saw so sweet a temper! she is always accusing herself, and
excusing her relations. And, as to you, Sir, she forgives you: she
wishes you well; and happier than you will let her die in peace? 'tis all
she wishes for. You don't look like a hard-hearted gentleman!--How can
you thus hunt and persecute a poor lady, whom none of her relations will
look upon? It makes my heart bleed for her.

And then she wept again. Mrs. Smith wept also. My seat grew uneasy to
me. I shifted to another several times; and what Mrs. Lovick farther
said, and showed me, made me still more uneasy.

Bad as the poor lady was last night, said she, she transcribed into her
book a meditation on your persecuting her thus. I have a copy of it. If
I thought it would have any effect, I would read it to you.