'At length her decline, and the extreme affliction of dying and
never hearing of me more, occasioned her to prevail on my brother to
advertise me in all the papers. This he did, by inserting the initials
of my name, and such other tokens as he knew must be intelligible to
me, should I read the advertisement; informing me at the same time of
the dying state of my mother.

'His plan so far succeeded as to come to my knowledge. I read the
paper, was seized with horror at the information, and immediately
wrote in answer. It was too late! My mother was dead! and I left in
that state of distraction to which by a single moment's weakness I had
been thus fatally conducted!

'Grief, despondency, and resentment, took firm possession of my
brother's mind. He wrote me a dreadful letter of the state of his
feelings; and, though he forebore explicitly to accuse me of my
mother's death, I could perceive the thought pervaded his mind. After
her funeral, he came up to London; but refused all intercourse with
me, once excepted. A few days only after that on which the bishop
introduced you to me, he came, knocked at the door, inquired if I were
at home, and sent up his name.

'Of all the moments of my life, that was the most awful! A death-like
coldness seized me! The sound of my brother's name was horror! I know
not what I said to the servant, but the feelings of Mr. Wilmot were
too racking for delay: he was presently before me, dressed in deep
mourning; I motionless and dead; he haggard, the image of despair; so
changed in form that, but for the sharp and quick sighted suspicions
of guilt, had I met him, I should have passed him without suspecting
him to be my brother.