LETTER XXV
Paris, Sept. 28.
I have written to you three or four letters; but different cauſes have prevented my ſending them by the perſons who promiſed to take or forward them. The incloſed is one I wrote to go by B——; yet, finding that he will not arrive, before I hope, and believe, you will have ſet out on your return, I incloſe it to you, and ſhall give it in charge to ——, as Mr. —— is detained, to whom I alſo gave a letter.
I cannot help being anxious to hear from you; but I ſhall not harraſs you with accounts of inquietudes, or of cares that ariſe from peculiar circumſtances.—I have had ſo many little plagues here, that I have almoſt lamented that I left H——. ——, who is at beſt a moſt helpleſs creature, is now, on account of her pregnancy, more trouble than uſe to me, ſo that I ſtill continue to be almoſt a ſlave to the child.—She indeed rewards me, for ſhe is a ſweet little creature; for, ſetting aſide a mother's fondneſs (which, by the bye, is growing on me, her little intelligent ſmiles ſinking into my heart), ſhe has an aſtoniſhing degree of ſenſibility and obſervation. The other day by B——'s child, a fine one, ſhe looked like a little ſprite.—She is all life and motion, and her eyes are not the eyes of a fool—I will ſwear.
I ſlept at St. Germain's, in the very room (if you have not forgot) in which you preſſed me very tenderly to your heart.—I did not forget to fold my darling to mine, with ſenſations that are almoſt too ſacred to be alluded to.
Adieu, my love! Take care of yourſelf, if you wiſh to be the protector of your child, and the comfort of her mother.
I have received, for you, letters from ————. I want to hear how that affair finiſhes, though I do not know whether I have moſt contempt for his folly or knavery.
Your own
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