The third day and the fourth arrived, but I received no answer to my letter: the complaints of a stranger against a favourite nephew, were no way likely to succeed; so that these hopes soon vanished like all my former.

My mind, however, still supported itself though confinement and bad air began to make a visible alteration in my health, and my arm that had suffered in the fire, grew worse.

My children however sate by me, and while I was stretched on my straw, read to me by turns, or listened and wept at my instructions.

But my daughter's health declined faster than mine; every message from her contributed to encrease my apprehensions and pain.

The fifth morning after I had written the letter which was sent to sit William Thornhill, I was alarmed with an account that she was speechless.