all the various channels by which news travels,—Francesca Carrara is in England, residing under the roof of Lawrence Aylmer! Ah, dear Robert, let me commend Lucy Aylmer to your care—the only woman I ever loved, even, save that I have not your nobler nature, as you loved Francesca. I duped both yourself and that young and generous Italian, who has just risked her life for mine. I passed myself upon her for you, and till this moment she has never been undeceived. But one who was attached to you must have found that I was an unworthy likeness; she felt the change, though she knew it not;—and mark these words,—I was scorned and rejected, and anger kept me from undeceiving you. But death brings awful, and some kindly thoughts. Never did your true and strong affection rise up so vividly—so tenderly to my thoughts. I may have lived, but I will not die, quite undeserving of it. God bless you and Francesca!—you deserve each other. I hear Major Johnstone walking quicker and quicker. How heavily he steps! Good by!
"Yours till death,
(not very long, by the by),
"Francis Evelyn."
