LETTER XXXI.
The Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH to RICHARD RISBY, Esq;
Dover.
Say not a word of it;—no, not for the world;—the body of Miss Powis is drove on shore.—If the family choose to have her brought down, it may be done some time hence.—I have order'd an undertaker to get a lead coffin, and will take care to have her remains properly deposited.—It would be an act of cruelty at present to acquaint her friends with this circumstance.—I have neither leisure or spirits to tell you in what manner the body was found, and how I knew it to be miss Powis's.
The shore is fill'd with a multitude of people.—What sights will they gaze on to satisfy their curiosity!—a curiosity that makes human nature shrink.
I have got three matronly women to go with the undertaker, that the body may be taken up with decency.
Darcey lives;—but how does he live?—Without sense; almost without motion.
God protect the good old steward!—the worthy Jenkings!—He is with you before this;—he has told you everything. I could not write by him:—I thought I should never be able to touch a pen again.—He had left Dover before the body was found.—What conflicts did he escape! But as it is, I fear his grey hairs will go down with sorrow to the grave.—God support us all!