LETTER XLIV.
HARRINGTON to WORTHY.
All my airy schemes of love and
happiness are vanished like a dream. Read
this, and pity your unfortunate friend.
To Mr. T. Harrington.
“SIR,
“YOU are about to marry a young lady
of great beauty and accomplishments—I beg
you to bestow a few serious thoughts on this
important business—Let me claim your attention,
while I disclose an affair, which materially
concerns you—Harriot must not be
your wife—You know your father is averse
to your early connecting yourself in marriage
with any woman—The duty we owe a parent
is sacred, but this is not the only barrier
to your marriage—the ties of consanguinity
prevent it—She is your SISTER—
Your father, or Miss
Harrington, will inform
you more particularly—It is sufficient for
me to have hinted it in time.—I am, with
the most perfect esteem, and sincere wishes
for your happiness, your
(In CONTINUATION.)
THE gloom of melancholy in the faces of
the family but too well corroborated this
intelligence—so I asked no questions---they
read in my countenance that I had received
the letter, and my sister put into my hand
The History of Maria—I concealed my emotion
while I read the account—“It is a pitiful
tale,” said I, as I returned it—and walked
out of the room to give vent to the agitation
of my heart.
I HAVE not yet seen Harriot—Myra has
run to greet her with the new title of sister.
Adieu! my friend—little happiness is left for
me in this world.
