LETTER XXXVIII.
MYRA to Mrs. HOLMES.
Accept my warmest acknowledgment,
my good friend, for your kindness
—Your letter sufficiently explains your
former anxiety—it has removed all ambiguities.
YOUR servant entered hastily with the letter—and
gave it me with evident tokens of
its containing a matter of importance.—My
father was present—I broke it open, not
without agitation—I read it—but the shock
was too severe—it fell from my hands, and I
sunk into the chair.
MY sainting was not of any duration. I
opened my eyes and found my father supporting
me—but the idea of Harriot was
still engraven deeply in my heart—I inquired
for my sister—the tear rolled down his
cheek—it was a sufficient answer to my inquiry—He
said nothing—there was no necessity
of his saying a word.
COULD I ask him to explain your letter?
No—my heart anticipated his feelings—
the impropriety struck me at once. “You
have a tale to unfold.” Do not delay to unfold
it.
Adieu!
