Believe me to remain, yours very sincerely, "Charlotte Callonby." "P.S .-- We are all quite well, except Lady Jane, who has a slight cold, and has been feverish for the last day or two." Words cannot convey any idea of the torrent of contending emotions under which I perused this letter.

The suddenness of the departure, without an opportunity of even a moment's leave-taking, completely unmanned me.
What would I not have given to be able to see her once more, even for an instant--to say "a good bye"-- to watch the feeling with which she parted from me, and augur from it either favourably to my heart's dearest hope, or darkest despair.

As I continued to read on, the kindly tone of the remainder reassured me, and when I came to the invitation to London, which plainly argued a wish on their part to perpetuate the intimacy, I was obliged to read it again and again, before I could convince myself of its reality.

There it was, however, most distinctly and legibly impressed in her ladyship's fairest calligraphy; and certainly great as was its consequence to me at the time, it by no means formed the principal part of the communication.

The two lines of postscript contained more, far more food for hopes and fears than did all the rest of the epistle.
Lady Jane was ill then, slightly however--a mere cold; true, but she was feverish.