The chevalier, madam.

What chevalier?

Grandison.

Impossible! Is he not in proud England?

He is come over, madam.

What for?

With a skilful English surgeon, in hopes to cure Signor Jeronymo

Poor Jeronymo!

And to pay his compliment to you, madam.

Flatterer! How many hundred times have I been told so?

Should you wish to see him, madam?

See whom?

The Chevalier Grandison.

Once I should; and sighed.

And not now, madam?

No: I have lost all I had to say to him. Yet I wish I were allowed to go to that England. We poor women are not suffered to go any-whither! while men

There she stopt; and Camilla could not make her say any more.

. The bishop was fond of repeating these particu-lars; as she had not, for some time, talked so much, and so sensibly.

Friday evening. I pass more than half my time with Signor Jero-nymo; but (that I may not fatigue his spirits) at different hours of the day. The Italian surgeons and Mr. Lowther happily agree in all their measures: they applaud him when his back is turned; and he speaks well of them in their absence. This mutual return of good offices, which they hear of, unites them. The patient declares, that he had not for months been so easy as now. Every-body attributes a great deal to his heart’s being revived by my fre-quent visits. To-morrow it is proposed to make an

SI H CHARLES GRANDISON, 313 opening below the most difficult wound. Mr.Low-ther says, he will not flatter us, till he sees the suc — cess of this operation.

The marquis and his lady are inexpressibly obliging to me. I had yesterday a visit from both, on an indisposition that confined me to my chamber; occasioned, I believe, by a hurry of spirits; by fa-tigue; by my apprehensions for Jeronymo; my concern for Clementina; and by my too great anxiety for the dear friends I had so lately left in England.

You know, Dr. Bartlett, that I have a heart too susceptible for my own peace, though I endeavour to conceal from others those painful sensibilities, which they cannot relieve. The poor Olivia was ever to be my disturbance. Miss Byron must be happy in the rectitude of her own heart. I am ready to think, that she will not be able to resist the warm instances of the Countess of D. in favour of her son, who is certainly one of the best young men among the nobility. She will be the happiest woman in. the world, as she is one of the most deserving, if she be as happy as I wish her.

Emily takes up a large portion of my thoughts.

Our Beauchamp I know must be happy: so must my Lord W.; my sisters, and their lords. Why then shall I not think myself so? God restore Je-ronymo, and his sister, and 1 must, I ivill; for you, my dear Dr. Bartlett, are so: and then I will sub-scribe myself a partaker of the happiness of all my friends; and particularly