I low could you mention the names of Mr. and Mrs. Reeves, and say no more of them? I thought you loved them both. They are deserving of your Jove, and love you.

Never, 1 believe, did any young creature suffer in her mind by suspense as I have done for some months past. In the present situation of things I kuow not n 3 what further to write. What can I, my Charlotte? Conjectural topics are reserved for my closet and pillow.

Adieu, and adieu, my beloved friend, my dear Lady G Be good, and be happy! What a blessing, that both are in your power! May they ever be so! And may you make a good use of that power, prays your

HARRIET BYRON.

Letter XXIII.

Sir Charles Grandison to Dr. Bartlett.

Bologna, July 8–19. My heart is unusually sad. How imperfect is that happiness which we cannot enjoy without giving pain to another!

The Count of Belvedere has been made acquaint-ed with the hopeful turn in the mind of Clementina; and that, in all probability, she will be given as a reward to the man to whose friendly cares for her, and her brother, the whole family attribute the happy alteration; and late last night he gave me notice of his arrival in this city, and of his intention to pay me an early visit this morning.

I have just now had a message from Clementina by Camilla, with a request, that I will suspend my intended visit till the afternoon.

I asked Camilla, If she knew the reason of this; and of her being so early dispatched with it? She replied, It was her young lady’s own order, without consulting any body. The marchioness, she said, told her yesterday in the afternoon, that every-thing was now absolutely detertnined upon between them and me; and she would be mistress of her own wishes; and that I should be allowed to attend her in the morning at breakfast, to know what those were. Her young lady, on this happy communication (so Camilla called it) threw herself at her mother’s feet, and in a very graceful manner acknowledged her father’s and her indulgence to her; and from that hour her temper took a turn different from what it had been before. For, ever since, she has been silent, solemn, and reserved; yet busy at her pen, transcribing fair from her pocket-book what she had written in it. To-morrow, Camilla! To-morrow! said she, breaking once her solemn silence, her complexion varying, will be a day indeed! O that it were come! and yet I dread it. How shall I, face to face, converse with this exalted man! What shall I do to appear as great as he? His goodness fires me with emulation! O that tomorrow were come, and gone!

This was over night. I believe, proceeded Ca-milla, that the dear lady is drawing up some condi — tions of her own for you to sign: but, Sir, I dare say, by the hint she has thrown out, they will be generous ones, and what will have more of fancy than hardship in them.