Magdalen Hospital, 1763.
            The state of my mind at the period I had brought my unfortunate life to, in the last letter I had the honour to address to you madam, was such, as I could with difficulty describe, and such as only the compassionate can feel, a state of fluctuation betwixt good and evil, to a delicate and a susceptible mind, is of all states that of a pitiable one: you my dear madam will guess at my feelings, when the kind letter I had mentioned receiving from my sister having remained unanswered, was followed by another which informed me she was coming to town, that the milliner with whom she now was had a daughter now grown capable of managing the business, and therefore she had got from her a recommendation to one of the same trade in London, and as soon as the terms were settled, she should come there with great satisfaction, as it would bring her near me.

            This news filled me with distress, how could I, who was not able to take courage to write to her, bear her sight, who would so circumstantially examine me about every particular of my situation and conduct, and whose eyes would no less exactly observe my person, which I had reason to believe would soon appear as visibly altered as my face.

            I could not conceal my uneasiness from Mr Markland, who was both the cause and consolation of all my sufferings. He told me, it only confirmed him in a purpose, which he intended to propose to me, which was to place me in a house where I might live free from the continual apprehensions I now was in, and enjoy the ease and affluence I so well deserved; that it was but reasonable, that she who possessed his whole heart, should at least share his fortune. To see me so settled, would render him very happy, as he could then enjoy my conversation without restraint or interruption, and he flattered himself, that he should see less melancholy mixed with my love and tenderness, which was now an abatement to my felicity. He added, that he had considered of the impossibility of my attending his mother into the country since a few months must affect my shape, so as to render it apparent to her, and therefore he had intended to desire me to find some excuse for giving her notice, that I should leave her, before the true cause should be perceived, and he was glad that while he was gratifying himself, in withdrawing from a state of servitude, the woman who in all eyes, but those of the priest's, must be looked upon as his wife, (for as such he would ever esteem me in the tenderest sense) he should remove me from a sister, whose prejudices I might be the occasion of much trouble to me.

            This proposal was indeed a great relief to my spirits, I longed to be removed from the eyes I feared, but could find no good excuse for leaving my lady; however as the best I could invent, I took the first opportunity of informing her, that a relation in the country, whom I durst not disoblige, insisted upon my coming to live with her.

            Lady Markland suspected the truth of what I said, and told me she wished it was not another kind of invitation that carried me away: "But girl," added she, "depend upon this, all your beauty will not keep one lover, though it may gain you a thousand; after a short possession, a woman not half so handsome will appear preferable, and you will be left on the common."

            Though I had no reason to suppose her ladyship inspired with any spirit, but that of experience, I could not help being shocked at so dreadful a prophecy.

            Scarcely capable of answering her, and utterly unable to insist on the lie I had made, I with much difficulty and with tears starting from my eyes, said I hoped my behaviour had not given her ladyship grounds for such suspicion.

            "No, no," replied my lady, "I have no fault to find with your conduct, you seem mighty sober, and modest, but I never in my life knew a very demure girl come to any good."

            I was glad to come off with so general a reflection, for I was not without my apprehensions, from what she had said, that she suspected part of the truth, as for the fears she had excited, as soon as I had told them to Mr Markland, he dispelled them all, by the kindest assurances of constancy, and unalterable love; professions, which contrary to all experience, will I fancy be believed, while love and folly exist.

            Lady Markland having soon got another servant recommended to her, I obtained liberty to depart, before my sister came to town, and was guarded by Mr Markland's servant to my new house, which was very pretty, and furnished in the neatest manner imaginable, though not expensive; Mr Markland was there to receive me, and was delighted with seeing me so well pleased, and with perceiving it was so much beyond my expectation, for vanity had not yet found its way into my heart, love too entirely filled it all.

             I was desirous of putting my lover to as little expense as possible, therefore took but one servant, and endeavoured by the regularity of my menage, to persuade the neighbourhood that I was his wife, but obliged to conceal that circumstance, during Sir George's life. This opinion Mr Markland gave all the colour to that he conveniently could, and indeed might safely do so, for whatever comfort my inexperience might draw from it, thinking I thereby avoided slander, he must well know that such indulgencies to women in my situation are so common, that they find credit with none but the very lowest people: and that instead of making a mistress pass for a wife, they often occasion one who is really a wife to pass for a mistress.

            Sir George and Lady Markland did not stay long in town after I left them, their son excused himself from going into the country with them, and by various pretences prolonged his stay.

            He was now always with me, and always equally a lover; his tenderness continued unabated, though my frequent indispositions cast a languor over my countenance, and deadened my complexion. Whenever I was tolerably well he carried me to some of the places of public diversion, most frequented during the summer season, they were entirely new to me. His conversation would have rendered any place pleasing. It is not strange then that I was delighted with places so calculated to entertain. He thought the satisfaction I showed in them a sufficient reward for the trouble of attending me, for he had been so long accustomed to them, that they had in a great measure lost their charms to him.

            Mr Markland was. extremely pleased to see me attract the notice of the company, and would with particular satisfaction make me observe the admiration that was paid, which was entirely overlooked by me, so wholly was my attention fixed on him: at first I was pleased with being admired, as I thought the approbation of others might recommend me the more to him, but at last I liked it for its own sake; vanity, which had so long worked unseen in my heart, began to grow perceptible, and the pleasure of being admired, made the greatest charm of a public place.

            Mr Markland was sometimes obliged to go down to his father, for about a week, but short retirement urges sweet return. He always left me with regret, and returned with impatience. These little absences were great afflictions to me, for having been so long habituated to his company, I knew not how to live a day without him, a week was an age, and I became almost as insensible as a statue, till again cheered by his presence: I every moment regretted the loss of him, and sometimes, I confess, lamented that I was deprived of admiration, for when he was away, I never went abroad, unless some family business carried me, so that I not only lost the pleasure of my heart, but the delight of my vanity.

            Towards the end of Autumn, during one of those short excursions, I walked out to make some small purchases, in my way, I went through a street, which I had not been in before, and going by a milliner's shop, I stepped in for some little thing I wanted, when the first person who offered to serve me, happened to be my sister, we were both so affected, that we became motionless for some time, my sister recovering herself the soonest, ran to me to embrace me, when casting down her eyes, she perceived the alteration in my shape, and instead of coming up to me, sunk down in a chair, where a flood of tears relieved her.

            I stood in no less want of relief, but could find none. I was almost suffocated with the struggle in my breast, between the various passions that affected me, my sister seeing the condition I was in, cried out, "Oh! my poor Emily," and leading  me into a parlour, behind the shop, called for some hartshorn, and when she had brought me to myself, "Oh! my child," said she, "what can I say to you, how can I bear to see you in the condition you are in, and yet how dare I say, what I would, when I fear that even the sight of me, may have done your constitution irreparable mischief; I would not increase the shock I have given you, and yet can I with any degree of propriety see you again; the account I received at Lady Markland's door, when I went with the utmost tenderness, and anxious impatience to enquire after you, is but too well confirmed, oh, thou fallen angel! how can my fond heart support the sight of thee thus involved, both in present and future misery."

            I could answer only with my tears, I threw myself on my knees, and catching hold of hers, my streaming eyes begged for pardon, but my words could find no utterance, till at last I got power enough just to say, "Forgive me, my dearest sister! My parent! Best of friends! Forgive me!" "My dearest sister," says she, "ask not forgiveness of me, ask it of him who you have most offended, and who not only can pardon the past, but preserve you from all future crimes."

            My sister thus continued her exhortations for some time, till she asked me if I would quit the way of life wherein I was then engaged, and never see the man again, who had led me into a state of ruin and destruction; promising that if I consented to this, she would take all possible care of me, and provide me with every convenience; for though she was then going to be married to a young man, who was a very advantageous match for her, and whom she sincerely loved, yet if he disapproving of her conduct in this particular, should attempt to restrain it, she would for ever forego all her expectations, and should think herself greatly rewarded by saving me from eternal ruin.

            What could I say, when I could not resolve to accept of so kind, so generous an offer; I begged her not to oppress me with her goodness, that I was not deserving of her care, and would never suffer her affections for me, to prevent her happy establishment, wished heaven might shower down all its blessings on her, but that as for myself the die was cast, I was too far gone to retreat; she again pressed her offers, I told her I could not deprive the child I went with of a parent, nor was it possible to forsake a man whose whole happiness was centred in me, and who deserved everything from me, having no aim but to promote my felicity. When my sister found me unalterable in this respect, then said she, "My dear Emily, I will not urge what I might properly say, because I fear for your health: I will not now endeavour at what I see your passions would render ineffectual to any purpose, but that of making you uneasy, when ease of mind will be most necessary for your recovery. I can only pray that your life may be spared, till you are fitter for another world, and that He alone who can turn the heart, will take compassion on yours, but it is impossible for me to see you any more: it would only be increasing my wretchedness, and creating yours. The thought of the situation you are in will embitter my most prosperous days: but it is my duty not to suffer it to disgrace them."

            I cried out in an agony which no words can express, "My dearest sister! Do not hate me, do not despise me, your hatred or your contempt would break my heart." "No, my dearest Emily," replied my sister, "be assured I can never hate or despise you, I shall pity, grieve and pray for you, but with all your faults must love you, love you with a tenderness none but a parent can know, for such I have always felt myself for you, and whenever you will love yourself as truly as I love you, shall with joy receive you, forget the past, hope for the future, endeavour to relieve your griefs, and confirm your happiness."

            With many tears and embraces we parted with each other, a chair was called, for I was not able to walk, my body felt so strongly the effects of the agitation of my mind, for in my way home, every tender, every endearing advice she had formerly given me; the affectionate letters I had received from time to time from her, the neglect, not to say unkindness with which I had treated her, during the latter part of my continuance with Lady Markland, crowded on: my memory, and. it was with difficulty I could support myself home; it is at this period of my life that I feel the force of your intimation, my good lady, that my unfortunate fall might prove a warning to many young and inexperienced females, and that it may prove so is the sincere wish and prayer of Madam,
            Your very humble Servant,
            M.S.

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