MR. MOWBRAY, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
UXBRIDGE, SEPT. 7, BETWEEN ELEVEN AND TWELVE AT NIGHT.


DEAR JACK,

I send by poor Lovelace's desire, for particulars of the fatal breviate
thou sentest him this night. He cannot bear to set pen to paper; yet
wants to know every minute passage of Miss Harlowe's departure. Yet why
he should, I cannot see: for if she is gone, she is gone; and who can
help it?

I never heard of such a woman in my life. What great matters has she
suffered, that grief should kill her thus?

I wish the poor fellow had never known her. From first to last, what
trouble she has cost him! The charming fellow had been half lost to us
ever since he pursued her. And what is there in one woman more than
another, for matter of that?

It was well we were with him when your note came. Your showed your true
friendship in your foresight. Why, Jack, the poor fellow was quite
beside himself--mad as any man ever was in Bedlam.

Will. brought him the letter just after we had joined him at the Bohemia
Head; where he had left word at the Rose at Knightsbridge he should be;
for he had been sauntering up and down, backwards and forwards, expecting
us, and his fellow. Will., as soon as he delivered it, got out of his
way; and, when he opened it, never was such a piece of scenery. He
trembled like a devil at receiving it: fumbled at the seal, his fingers