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LETTER LIII.
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LETTER LIII.

Gracious Heaven! What have
I heard? Major Sanford is married! Yes, the
ungrateful, the deceitful wretch, is married!
He has forsworn, he has perjured, and given
himself to another! That, you will say, is nothing
strange. It is characteristic of the man.
It may be so; but I could not be convinced
of his persidy till now!


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Perhaps it is all for the best. Perhaps, had
he remained unconnected, he might still have
deceived me; but now I defy his arts!

They tell me, he has married a woman of
fortune. I suppose he thinks, as I once did,
that wealth can ensure happiness. I wish he
may enjoy it.

This event would not affect me at all, were
it not for the depression of spirits which I feel,
in consequence of a previous disappointment;
since which, every thing of the kind agitates
and overcomes me. I will not see him. If
I do, I shall betray my weakness, and flatter
his vanity; as he will doubtless think he has
the power of mortifying me by his connection
with another.

Before this news discomposed me, I had attained
to a good degree of cheerfulness. Your
kind letter, seconded by Julia's exertions, had
assisted me in regulating my sensibility. I have
been frequently into company, and find my relish
for it gradually returning.

I intend to accept the pleasure to which you
invite me, of spending a little time with you,
this winter. Julia and I will come together.
Varying the scene may contribute effectually
to dissipate the gloom of my imagination. I
would fly to almost any resort, rather than my
own mind. What a dreadful thing it is to be
afraid of one's own reflections, which ought
to be a constant source of enjoyment! But I


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will not moralize. I am sufficiently melancholy,
without any additional cause to increase
it!

Eliza Wharton.