Transcriber’s Note:
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
I wish to inform you, my dear Grandison,what joy I felt when I returnedback again to a dearly loved mother.—But,no;—you who love your parentsso tenderly, can easily imagine what Icannot describe. How full of transportwas the moment, when, after ayear’s absence, I again embraced the dearguardian of my youth. It was veryearly in the morning when we entered2the city; my mother, as we had nothad a fair wind, did not expect me, andof course was in bed. My first eagerdesire made me ascend the stairs; but asI was hastening to her bedchamber Irecollected myself, and returned softlyback. It is still dark, thought I, shallI disturb her repose, by my sudden appearanceat her bedside? Certainly not.That would be mistaken love, mereselfish affection. You will, I think, approveof this prudence. Mean while Iwas full of impatience: a thousandtimes I wished her to wake, countedthe minutes, and listened continually.—Atlength the moment arrived; myheart beat quick; I almost flew up thestairs; but again I stopped myself, andresting on the last stair, I called out,Here is your own William, dear mother,may I come in? Was I not right, myfriend? for the sudden surprise of seeingme, would have been too much for her3spirits. Before I could well hear heranswer my patience was exhausted, andI rushed in, and was at her bedside outof breath; I could only say, My dearmother. She pressed me to her bosom,crying, My William, my son!—and weboth wept together: but they were delightfultears: I never in my life experiencedso much heart-felt satisfaction.
My sister Annette hurried on herclothes as soon as she heard of my arrival,and jumped about me half madwith joy. She then ran for the doll,which your sister Emilia sent her, andmade me observe how well she had preservedit, and asked twenty questions ina breath about this dear sister of your’s.In the midst of them, the maid came totell her that her writing master waitedfor her. I wish it was an hour earlier,said she, with tears in her eyes; the momentI see you I am forced to leave you;another day, I should not mind writing4four copies; but to-day I know nothow