dearest child, and get some light books to entertain you; but, pray, as
soon as you are well, do go to Lord Dawton's--he is dying to see you; but
be sure not to catch cold. How did you like Lady Chester? Pray take the
greatest care of yourself, and write soon to

"Your wretched, and most

"Affectionate Mother,

"F. P.

"P.S. How dreadfully shocking about that poor Sir John Tyrrell!"

I tossed the letter from me. Heaven pardon me if the misanthropy of my
mood made me less grateful for the maternal solicitude than I should
otherwise have been.

I took up one of the numerous books with which my table was covered; it
was a worldly work of one of the French reasoners; it gave a new turn to
my thoughts--my mind reverted to its former projects of ambition. Who
does not know what active citizens private misfortune makes us? The
public is like the pools of Bethesda--we all hasten there, to plunge in
and rid ourselves of our afflictions.

I drew my portfeuille to me, and wrote to Lord Dawton. Three hours after
I had sent the note, he called upon me. I gave him Lord Chester's letter,
but he had already received from that nobleman a notification of my
success. He was profuse in his compliments and thanks.

"And, do you know," added the statesman, "that you have quite made a