the bitterness of death.”  “True, madam,” said I, “your affliction must be great; yet that all-gracious Being who controls every event is able, and I trust disposed, to support you.”  “To him,” replied she, “I desire humbly to resign myself; but I think I could have borne almost any other calamity with greater resignation and composure than this.  With how much comparative ease could I have followed her to the grave at any period since her birth!  O, my child, my child! dear, very dear, hast thou been to my fond heart.  Little did I think it possible for you to prepare so dreadful a cup of sorrow for your widowed mother.  But where,” continued she, “where can the poor fugitive have fled?  Where can she find that protection and tenderness, which, notwithstanding her great apostasy, I should never have withheld?  From whom can she receive those kind attentions which her situation demands.”

The agitation of her mind had exhausted her strength, and I prevailed on her to refresh and endeavor to compose herself to rest, assuring her of my utmost exertions to find out Eliza’s retreat, and restore her to a mother’s arms.

I am obliged to suppress my own emotions, and to bend all my thoughts towards the alleviation of Mrs. Wharton’s anxiety and grief.

Major Sanford is from home, as I expected; and I am determined, if he return, to see him myself, and extort from him the place of Eliza’s concealment.  Her flight in her present state of health is inexpressibly distressing to her mother; and unless we find her soon, I dread the effects.

I shall not close this till I have seen or heard from the vile miscreant who has involved a worthy family in wretchedness.

Friday morning.—­Two days have elapsed without affording us much relief.  Last evening, I was told that Major Sanford was at home.  I immediately wrote him a billet, entreating and conjuring him to let me know where the hapless Eliza had fled.  He returned me the following answer:—­

“Miss Granby need be under no apprehensions respecting the situation of our beloved Eliza.  She is well provided for, conveniently accommodated, and has every thing to make her happy which love and affluence can give.

“Major Sanford has solemnly sworn not to discover her retreat.  She wishes to avoid the accusations of her friends till she is better able to bear them.

“Her mother may rest assured of immediate information, should any danger threaten her amiable daughter; and also of having seasonable notice of her safety.”

Although little dependence can be placed upon this man, yet these assurances have, in a great degree, calmed our minds.  We are, however, contriving means to explore the refuge of the wanderer, and hope, by tracing his steps, to accomplish our purpose.  This we have engaged a friend to do.

I know, my dear Mrs. Sumner, the kind interest you will take in this disastrous affair.  I tremble to think what the event may be.  To relieve your suspense, however, I shall write you every circumstance as It occurs; but at present, I shall only enclose Eliza’s letters to her mamma and me, and subscribe myself your sincere and obliged friend,