ABSTRACT
It was not till I laid my head upon my pillow that I began to reflect on my new embarrassments. I slept but little, and my short slumbers were broken by a thousand visionary evils, adding their appalling shadows to the dreadful realities of affliction. I rose early, and again consulted Mr. Optic: he advised me to remain patiently at his house until some decisive intelligence should reach me respecting my relations, or some opportunity present itself which might place me in the road to more prosperous fortune. This restriction was painful to my feelings, which were too strongly awakened by curiosity to remain placid under the conviction that Isabella was so near me. I resolved to conceal myself during the day, but to employ the early part of every night in a research, which interested my heart far more than the dread of personal captivity.
