Grosvenor my poor
child is dying – I hope in God she will be dead
before you receive this. water on the brain. It came on me
like a thunderstroke.
My next will be from Keswick whither we
shall fly as soon as possible. Edith is almost
heart broken. I am struggling with my own heart – God only
knows with what an effort. I shall soon be tranquil &
contented – but what a happiness I lost & what hopes are
all blasted!
RS.
Friday 19 Aug. 1803.
Tell Duppa
this. I should else have written to him.
