LETTER LXVII.
November 8.
CHARLOTTE has reproved me for my excesses, with so much
tenderness and goodness! -- In order to forget myself, my dear
friend, I have for some time past drank more wine than usual --
"Don't do it," said she; "think of Charlotte." -- The necessary
advice to think of Charlotte! -- "I do think of you, and yet 'tis
not thinking of you; you are always before my eyes, you
are in my heart: This very morning I was sitting in the place
where you stopped the last time--" Immediately she changed {162}
the subject. My dear friend, I am no longer any thing, she makes
me just what she pleases.
