'I thought of writing only a few lines; but I have run into length. I
will now try to recollect my scattered thoughts, and resume my reason;
and shall find trouble enough to replace my affairs, and my own family,
and to supply the chasms you have made in it: For, let me tell you,
though I can forgive you, I never can my sister, nor my domestics; for my
vengeance must be wreaked somewhere.
'I doubt not your prudence in forbearing to expose me any more than is
necessary for your own justification; and for that I will suffer myself
to be accused by you, and will also accuse myself, if it be needful. For
I am, and will ever be, 'Your affectionate well-wisher.'
This letter, when I expected some new plot, has affected me more than any
thing of that sort could have done. For here is plainly his great value
for me confessed, and his rigorous behaviour accounted for in such a
manner, as tortures me much. And all this wicked gipsy story is, as it
seems, a forgery upon us both, and has quite ruined me: For, O my dear
parents, forgive me! but I found, to my grief, before, that my heart was
too partial in his favour; but now with so much openness, so much
affection; nay, so much honour too, (which was all I had before doubted,
and kept me on the reserve,) I am quite overcome.
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