O Madam--A vomiting of blood! A vessel broke, to be sure!

Down she hastens; finds every one as busy over my blood in the entry,
as if it were that of the Neapolitan saint.

In steps my charmer, with a face of sweet concern.

How do you, Mr. Lovelace?

O my best love!--Very well!--Very well!--Nothing at all! nothing of
consequence!--I shall be well in an instant!--Straining again! for I was
indeed plaguy sick, though no more blood came.

In short, Belford, I have gained my end. I see the dear soul loves me.
I see she forgives me all that's past. I see I have credit for a new
score.

Miss Howe, I defy thee, my dear--Mrs. Townsend!--Who the devil are you?--
Troop away with your contrabands. No smuggling! nor smuggler, but
myself! Nor will the choicest of my fair-one's favours be long
prohibited goods to me!


***


Every one is now sure that she loves me. Tears were in her eyes more
than once for me. She suffered me to take her hand, and kiss it as often
as I pleased. On Mrs. Sinclair's mentioning, that I too much confined