And on my telling him, that I feared nothing in
the distemper, but the loss of his love, he said, in presence of the
doctors, and my father and mother, pressing my hand to his lips--"My
dearest life, make yourself easy under this affliction, and apprehend
nothing for yourself: I love you more, for your mind than for your
face. That and your person will be the same; and were that sweet face
to be covered with seams and scars, I will value you the more for the
misfortune: and glad I am, that I had your picture so well drawn in
town, to satisfy those who have heard of your loveliness, what you
were, and hitherto are. For myself, my admiration lies deeper;" and,
drawing me to the other end of the room, whisperingly he said, "The
last uneasiness between us, I now begin to think, was necessary,
because it has turned all my delight in you, more than ever, to the
perfections of your mind: and so God preserves to me the life of my
Pamela, I care not for my own part, what ravages the distemper makes
here," and tapped my cheek.--How generous, how noble, how comforting
was this!
When I went from my apartment, to go to my child, my dear Mr. B. met
me at the nursery door, and led me back again. "You must not go in
again, my dearest.
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