But how shall I proceed? This man, this cruel Montraville, for whom I sacrificed honour, happiness, and the love of my friends, no longer looks on me with affection, but scorns the credulous girl whom his art has made miserable. Could you see me, my dear parents, without society, without friends, stung with remorse, and (I feel the burning blush of shame die my cheeks while I write it)tortured with the pangs of disappointed love; cut to the soul by the indifference of him, who, having deprived me of every other comfort, no longer thinks it worth his while to sooth the heart where he has planted the thorn of never-ceasing regret.
My daily employment is to think of you and weep, to pray for your happiness and deplore my own folly: my nights are scarce more happy, for if by chance I close my weary eyes, and hope some small forgetfulness of sorrow, some little time to pass in sweet oblivion, fancy, still waking, wafts me home to you: I see your beloved forms, I kneel and hear the blessed words of peace and pardon.
Extatic joy pervades my soul; I reach my arms to catch your dear embraces;the motion chases the illusive dream; I wake to real misery.
At other times I see my father angry and frowning, point to horrid caves, where, on the cold damp ground, in the agonies of death, I see my dear mother and my revered grand-father. I strive to raise you;you push me from you, and shrieking cry--"Charlotte, thou hast murdered me!" Horror and despair tear every tortured nerve;I start, and leave my restless bed, weary and unrefreshed.
"Shocking as these reflexions are, I have yet one more dreadful than the rest. Mother, my dear mother! do not let me quite break your heart when I tell you, in a few months Ishall bring into the world an innocent witness of my guilt.
Oh my bleeding heart, I shall bring a poor little helpless creature, heir to infamy and shame.
"This alone has urged me once more to address you, to interest you in behalf of this poor unborn, and beg you to extend your protection to the child of your lost Charlotte; for my own part Ihave wrote so often, so frequently have pleaded for forgiveness, and entreated to be received once more beneath the paternal roof, that having received no answer, not even one line, I much fear you have cast me from you for ever.
"But sure you cannot refuse to protect my innocent infant:
it partakes not of its mother's guilt. Oh my father, oh beloved mother, now do I feel the anguish I inflicted on your hearts recoiling with double force upon my own.
"If my child should be a girl (which heaven forbid) tell her the unhappy fate of her mother, and teach her to avoid my errors;if a boy, teach him to lament my miseries, but tell him not who inflicted them, lest in wishing to revenge his mother's injuries, he should wound the peace of his father.
"And now, dear friends of my soul, kind guardians of my infancy, farewell.
I feel I never more must hope to see you; the anguish of my heart strikes at the strings of life, and in a short time I shall be at rest.
Oh could I but receive your blessing and forgiveness before I died, it would smooth my passage to the peaceful grave, and be a blessed foretaste of a happy eternity. I beseech you, curse me not, my adored parents, but let a tear of pity and pardon fall to the memory of your lost CHARLOTTE.
