LETTER XLV.
Myra to Mrs. Holmes.
IN what words shall I describe to you, my dear friend, the misery that has suddenly overwhelmed us! It is impossible to communicate the distressed situation of Harriot—Expression is inadequate to give you an idea of our meeting.—I called her my friend—my sister—She always loved me—but joy and affection gave way to passion—Her speech refused its office—
SHE had gained a sister—she had lost a lover—a burst of joy would suddenly break from her, but it was of short duration—and was succeeded by pangs of exquisite distress—nature was unable to support it, and she fainted under the weight of severe conflict. Her constitution at best is feeble; her present illness is therefore attended with more danger—Unless a speedy alteration should take place, the physician has little hopes of her recovery.—Heaven preserve us!