I shall leave this place on Tuesday for Hertford: Abraham is here; his Lord has sent him to enquire after me: I believe, however, he is less anxious about my health, than my answer. The affecting death of Lady Ossory damped the first transports of my joy; the soft impression of pity is yet strong; but my heart speaks, and will be heard in its turn. Is it possible even you, my dear Henrietta, can conceive the happiness I feel at this moment? Lord Ossory is not unworthy my tenderness: how sweet is it to grant to his merit, what I feared I should have yielded only to my prepossession in his favour! He has not acted inconsistently with those distinguished qualities, which first gave him possession of my soul: the lover who is soon to appear again in my presence, is estimable, sincere, generous – Ah! all is pardoned, all is forgot! I will not make him purchase by submission, by anxiety, by suspence, a favour he so earnestly entreats: an immediate reconciliation shall be the reward of his confidence – How happy is it that he has thus opened all his heart to me! I will write to him instantly: why should I defer a moment the pleasure it is in my power to give him! The following is a copy of my letter.

To Lord Ossory.

You suppose me changed, my Lord, but I am still the same. Sensible to your confidence, I think I ought to be no less so to your friendship. I am going to Lord Osmond's: if you come to Hertford, I shall receive Lord Ossory with that lively pleasure which it is natural to feel at the sight of a friend whom one has long imagined lost for ever.

In inviting him to Hertford, in telling him I shall see him with pleasure, have I not said every thing? It is with difficulty I conceal the pleasing emotions of my heart: my joy sparkles in my eyes: every body says I am grown handsomer within these two days.