LETTER XXV.

Miss WARLEY to the same.

_From Mr. Jenkings's_.


Now, my dear Lady, am I ready for my departure:--Sir James and Lady
Powis reconciled to my leaving them;--yet how can I call it reconciled,
when I tear myself from their arms as they weep over me?--Heavens! how
tenderly they love me!--Their distress, when I told them the day was
absolutely fix'd; when I told them the necessity of my going, _their_
distress nothing could equal but my _own_.--I thought my heart would
have sunk within me!--Surely, my Lady, my affection for them is not a
common affection;--it is _such_ as I hear your dear self;--it is _such_
as I felt for my revered Mrs. Whitmore.--I cannot dwell on this
subject--indeed I cannot.

I almost wish I had not kept the day so long a secret.--But suppose I
had not,--would their concern have been lessen'd?

I would give the world, if Mr. Jenkings was come home:--his wife is like
a frantic woman; and declares, if I persist in going, I shall break the
heart of her and her husband.--Why do they love me so well?--It cannot
be from any deserts of mine:--I have done no more than common gratitude
demands;--the affection I shew them is only the result of their own
kindness.--Benevolent hearts never place any thing to their own
account:--they look on returns as presents, not as just debts:--so,