had heard with great concern of her dangerous illness, but hoped she
might get through it, and was much, very much grieved to hear that it
had ended fatally. I had, as you know, lived a great deal with her
from the time she came into this country, immediately after her
marriage; but for some years past, since she went abroad, had scarcely
had any correspondence or intercourse with her, till I met her in town
last spring. I then saw her twice, and both times she seemed so
overjoyed to see an old friend, and expressed her joy so naturally and
cordially, that I felt no less overjoyed at seeing her after so long
an absence. She talked, with great satisfaction, of our meeting for a
longer time this next spring, little thinking of an eternal
separation. There could not, in all respects, be a more ill-matched
pair than herself and Lord Oxford, or a stronger instance of the cruel
sports of Venus, or, rather, of Hymen--

'Cui placet impares
Formas atque animos sub juga ahenea
Saevo mittere cum joco.'

"It has been said that she was, in some measure, forced into the
match. Had she been united to a man whom she had loved, esteemed, and
respected, she herself might have been generally respected and
esteemed, as well as loved; but in her situation, to keep clear of all
misconduct required a strong mind or a cold heart; perhaps both, and
she had neither. Her failings were in no small degree the effect of
circumstances; her amiable qualities all her own. There was something
about her, in spite of her errors, remarkably attaching, and that
something was not merely her beauty. 'Kindness has resistless charms,'
and she was full of affectionate kindness to those she loved, whether
as friends or as lovers. As a friend, I always found her the same,