were the object of my uneasiness, but that when next you saw me, let it cost me even my life, all should be explained; you seemed shocked and surprised at my words; taking my hand in the most affectionate manner, you said," if you ever should believe me any other than your sincere friend, you will wrong me much."
From that moment I spared no pains to unravel the clue, which by the most extraordinary means I had been entrusted with, to develope (sic ) the truth of your real character and conduct in respect to me, and your connection with Mr. G., the whole of which I was shortly after acquainted with. It is now two years past since I went to London for no other purpose than that of telling you I knew you now in your real character.
I was so agitated on seeing you I could scarcely speak; you said you were going to church; I told you I should not detain. you, as I had only come to fulfil the promise I had made when last we parted, and in a few words to tell you, I was no longer your dupe, as I was now perfectly informed as to the nature of your attachment to Mr. G for these many years.
You changed from red to extreme paleness, and with trembling lips and great hesitation of speech, after some time you said, " you cannot believe what you say, and on what do you found your accusation?" I answered, " that is of no consequence, you know what I say to be true." I then walked out of your house, not chusing (sic ) to prolong the conversation.
You and Miss W. followed me, and endeavoured to say something like persuading me I wronged you; to which I answered, "you know, Madam, I would not lightly accuse one

whom I have so so highly of, and who trusted you so unboundedly?" you answered me in these most extraordinary words : "why then did you think so highly of me, did you believe me superior to the weaknesses of humanity?" ( I refer my readers to Mrs. Siddon's seventh letter, where she so emphatically remarks " time is given to us only to correct our errors and our weakness, let us not misuse the gifts." ) upon which I replied, "I have indeed been punished for thinking too well of you." At that moment I left you, seeing Mr. G. coming towards me, who had followed me from home. You may suppose he was much displeased at this visit to you, but at that moment I was too much afflicted to attend to what he said. I left town in a few hours after.
Here, Madam, ends the narrative of the events of, to me, our most fatal acquaintance; the effects of which has been to entirely destroy my domestic peace, ruin my fortunes, break, my heart, and so far destroy my health, that lately my life was in the most imminent danger.
Upon a bed of sickness and probable death, it was the anguish of my mind in reflecting on the victim I have been, and must further be to you, that suggested the idea of publishing my wrongs to the world. It may seem extraordinary, that, informed so long of the truth of your character, I should have till now deferred this disclosure: my principal reason was, I determined never to reveal your conduct until the money due to you by Mr. G. was paid, and which I thought was certain would have been done long before this.
To account why it has not been so, it is proper to state the causes which have prevented it.