Elizabeth had caught the scarlet fever; [but] her illness was [not] severe, and she [quickly recovered] <was in the greatest danger>. During her [confinement] <illness>, many arguments had been urged to persuade my mother to refrain from attending upon her. She had, at first, yielded to our entreaties; but when she heard that <the life of> her favourite was [recovering, she could no longer debar herself from her society, and entered her chamber long before the danger of infection was past. The] <menaced, she could no longer control her anxiety. She attended her sick bed, -- her watchful attentions triumphed over the malignity of the distemper,-- Elizabeth was saved, but the> consequences of this imprudence were fatal <to her preserver>. On the third day my mother sickened; her fever was [very malignant] <accompanied by the most alarming symptoms>, and the looks of her <medical> attendants prognosticated the worst event. On her death-bed the fortitude and benignity of this [admirable woman] <best of women> did not desert her. She joined the hands of Elizabeth and myself: -- "My children," she said, "my firmest hopes of future happiness were placed on the prospect of your union. This expectation will now be the consolation of your father. Elizabeth, my love, you must supply my place to [your younger cousins] <my younger children>. Alas! I regret that I am taken from you; and, happy and beloved as I have been, is it not hard to quit you all? But these are not thoughts befitting me; I will endeavour to resign myself cheerfully to death, and will indulge a hope of meeting you in another world."