coincidence of circumstances inspired, and wondering why she thought so
much of a stranger, obliged as she had been by his timely interference;
[for she recollected, by degrees all the circumstances of their former
meeting.] She found however that she could think of nothing else; or, if
she thought of her daughter, it was to wish that she had a father whom
her mother could respect and love.





CHAPTER 3


WHEN PERUSING the first parcel of books, Maria had, with her pencil,
written in one of them a few exclamations, expressive of compassion and
sympathy, which she scarcely remembered, till turning over the leaves of
one of the volumes, lately brought to her, a slip of paper dropped out,
which Jemima hastily snatched up.

"Let me see it," demanded Maria impatiently, "You surely are not afraid
of trusting me with the effusions of a madman?" "I must consider,"
replied Jemima; and withdrew, with the paper in her hand.

In a life of such seclusion, the passions gain undue force; Maria
therefore felt a great degree of resentment and vexation, which she had
not time to subdue, before Jemima, returning, delivered the paper.

"Whoever you are, who partake of my fate,
accept my sincere commiseration--I would have said