[for Sally went out, as my angel came in] with uplifted hands and eyes,
stood thanking Heaven that I was better, in audible whispers: See the
power of love, cried one!--What a charming husband, another!--Happy
couple, all!

O how the dear creature's cheek mantled!--How her eyes sparkled!--How
sweetly acceptable is praise to conscious merit, while it but reproaches
when applied to the undeserving!--What a new, what a gay creation it
makes all at once in a diffident or dispirited heart!

And now, Belford, was it not worth while to be sick? And yet I must tell
thee, that too many pleasanter expedients offer themselves, to make trial
any more of this confounded ipecacuanha.



LETTER III

MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE
SATURDAY, MAY 27.


Mr. Lovelace, my dear, has been very ill. Suddenly taken. With a
vomiting of blood in great quantities. Some vessel broken. He
complained of a disorder in his stomach over night. I was the
affected with it, as I am afraid it was occasioned by the violent
contentions between us.--But was I in fault?

How lately did I think I hated him!--But hatred and anger, I see, are but
temporary passions with me. One cannot, my dear, hate people in danger