To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, Wednesday morning.
Yours,
A. Fermor.
Poor Emily is to meet with perpetual mortification: we have been carrioling with Fitzgerald and my father; and, coming back, met your brother driving Mademoiselle Clairaut: Emily trembled, turned pale, and scarce returned Rivers’s bow; I never saw a poor little girl so in love; she is amazingly altered within the last fortnight.
Two o’clock.A letter from Mrs. Melmoth: I send you a copy of it with this.
Adieu!Yours,
A. Fermor.