LETTER LVI.
To Mrs. Montford.
Philadelphia, Oct. 7.
Madam,
It is with extreme reluctance that I venture
to address you in this manner. I cannot find
words to account for or apologise. But if you
be, indeed, the sister of Henry Colden, you cannot
be ignorant of me, and of former transactions
between us; and especially, the circumstance
that now compels me to write—you can
be no stranger to his present situation.
Can you forgive this boldness? in an absolute
stranger to your person, but not to your
virtues. I have heard much of you, from one
in whom I once had some little interest; Who
honored me with his affection.
I know that you lately possessed a large share
of that affection. I doubt not that you still retain
it, and are able to tell me what has become
of him.
I have, a long time, struggled with myself
and my fears in silence. I know how unbecoming
this address must appear to you, and yet,
persuaded that my character and my relation
to your brother are well known to you, I have
been able to curb my anxieties no longer.
Do then, my dearest madam, gratify my curiosity,
and tell me without delay, what has become
of your brother.
