I told her, in the course of conversation, that I expected the pleasure of seeing her yesterday at Mr. Smith’s, and was very sorry for the indisposition which prevented her favoring us with her company.  “Indeed,” said she, “I did not know I was expected there.  Were you there, pray?” “Yes,” said I; “and Major Sanford excused your not coming, on the account I have mentioned.”  “Well,” said she, “this is the first word that I ever heard about it; he told me that business led him abroad.  Did he gallant any lady?” “O,” said I, “he was with us all together.  We had no particular gallants.”

Seeing her curiosity excited, I heartily repented saying any thing of the matter, and waived the subject.  Little did I suspect him to have been guilty of so base an artifice.  It was evidently contrived to facilitate an interview with Eliza.

When I returned, I related this affair to Mrs. Wharton and her daughter.  The old lady and I expatiated largely on the vileness of this conduct, and endeavored to expose it to Eliza’s view in its true colors.  She pretended not to justify it; yet she looked as if she wished it in her power.

I am now preparing for my journey to Boston, which I must, however, defer another week for the sake of a more agreeable passage in the stage.  I regret leaving Eliza.  I tremble at her danger.  She has not the resolution to resist temptation which she once possessed.  Her mind is surprisingly weakened.  She appears sensible of this, yet adds to it by yielding to her own imbecility.  You will receive a letter from her with this, though I had much difficulty to persuade her to write.  She has unfortunately become very averse to this, her once favorite amusement.

As I shall soon have the pleasure of conversing with you personally, I conclude without any other addition to this scrawl than the name of your obliged

JULIA GRANBY.

LETTER LXI.

TO MISS ELIZA WHARTON.

BOSTON.

My dear friend:  I have received your letters, and must own to you that the perusal of them gave me pain.  Pardon my suspicions, Eliza; they are excited by real friendship.  Julia, you say, approves not Major Sanford’s particular attention to you.  Neither do I. If you recollect and examine his conversation in his conciliatory visit, you will find it replete with sentiments for the avowal of which he ought to be banished from all virtuous society.

Does he not insidiously declare that you are the only object of his affections; that his union with another was formed from interested views; and, though that other is acknowledged to be amiable and excellent, still he has not a heart to bestow, and expects not happiness with her?  Does this discover even the appearance of amendment?  Has he not, by false pretensions, misled a virtuous woman, and induced her to form a connection with him?  She was a stranger to his manner of life, and doubtless allured, as you have been, by flattery, deceit, and external appearance, to trust his honor, little thinking him wholly devoid of that sacred tie.  What is the reward of her confidence?  Insensibility to her charms, neglect of her person, and professed attachment to another!