merning, and I was carried back to London, more dead than alive. A burning fever raged in my blood; and the moment I reached my father's house, I was put to bed, and placed under the care of a physician, with nurses to watch me night and day. For three weeks I was in a state of delirium; and when I regained my senses, it was only to renew the anguish which had caused my disorder, and I felt any sentiment except gratitude for my recovery.
My dear Clara had never quitted me during my confinement. I had taken no medicine but from her hand. I asked her to give me some account of what had happened. She told me that Talbot was gone—that my father had seen Mr. Somerville, who had informed him that Emily had received a long letter from Eugenia, narrating every circumstance, exculpating me, and accusing herself. Emily had wept over it, but still remained firm in her resolution never to see me more—"And
