Afterwards, I heard, through various channels, without any efforts on
my part, intelligence of Colden. At first I was not much alarmed. Colden,
it is true, was not a faultless or steadfast character. No gross or
enormous vices were ascribed to him. His habits, as far as appearances
enabled one to judge, were temperate and chaste. He was contemplative and
bookish, and was vaguely described as being somewhat visionary and
romantic.

In all this there was nothing formidable. Such a man might surely be a
harmless companion. Those with whom he was said to associate most
intimately were highly estimable. Their esteem was a test of merit not to
be disposed or hastily rejected.

Things, however, quickly took a new face. I was informed that, after
your return to the city, Colden continued to be a very constant visitant.
Your husband's voyage left you soon after at liberty, and your intercourse
with this person only became more intimate and confidential.

Reflecting closely on this circumstance, I began to suspect some danger
lurking in your path. I now remembered that impetuosity of feeling which
distinguished your early age; those notions of kindred among souls, of
friendship and harmony of feelings which, in your juvenile age, you loved
to indulge.

I reflected that the victory over these chimeras, which you gained by
marriage with Talbot, might be merely temporary; and that, in order to
call these dormant feelings into action, it was only requisite to meet
with one contemplative, bookish, and romantic as yourself.