several transient likings; but they did not amount to love. The society
of men of genius delighted her, and improved her faculties. With beings
of this class she did not often meet; it is a rare genus; her first
favourites were men past the meridian of life, and of a philosophic
turn.

Determined on going to the South of France, or Lisbon; she wrote to the
man she had promised to obey. The physicians had said change of air was
necessary for her as well as her friend. She mentioned this, and added,
"Her comfort, almost her existence, depended on the recovery of the
invalid she wished to attend; and that should she neglect to follow the
medical advice she had received, she should never forgive herself, or
those who endeavoured to prevent her." Full of her design, she wrote
with more than usual freedom; and this letter was like most of her
others, a transcript of her heart.

"This dear friend," she exclaimed, "I love for her agreeable qualities,
and substantial virtues. Continual attention to her health, and the
tender office of a nurse, have created an affection very like a maternal
one--I am her only support, she leans on me--could I forsake the
forsaken, and break the bruised reed--No--I would die first! I must--I
will go."

She would have added, "you would very much oblige me by consenting;" but
her heart revolted--and irresolutely she wrote something about wishing
him happy.--"Do I not wish all the world well?" she cried, as she
subscribed her name--It was blotted, the letter sealed in a hurry, and
sent out of her sight; and she began to prepare for her journey.

By the return of the post she received an answer; it contained some