A Letter from His Cousin

I trembled. One subject! what could it be? Could he allude to an object on

whom I dared not even think? “Compose yourself,” said Clerval, who observed my

change of colour, “I will not mention it, if it agitates you; but your father

and cousin would be very happy if they received a letter from you in your own hand-writing.

They hardly know how ill you have been, and are uneasy at your long silence.”

“Is that all? my dear Henry. How could you suppose that my first thought would not fly towards

those dear, dear friends whom I love, and who are so deserving of my love.”

“If this is your present temper, my friend, you will perhaps be glad to see a