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CHAP. V.
And now, my dear Miss D'Alenberg, I am coming to the most melancholy part of my story, which indeed I dread to enter upon. Excuse the prolixity of my recital; the conclusion I shall endeavour to hasten over, as too painful to dwell upon.
I had resided in the convent near eighteen months, without any alteration having taken place in my circumstances. Twice, during that time, I had again written to my father, almost without hope, and as I thought, without effect. One day, about noon, a paper
