The first shock to the happiness of Carlile and Isis was caused by the receipt of a letter from her brother which induced the following:--
"Health and Tranquillity! A letter from Bolton has at length found its way to London, and my bosom is bursting with indignation and sorrow, with indignation for the contemptible and satirical style and manner in which the letter is written; and sorrow for a parent's suffering. My God! what shall I do? Leave you, my dear Richard, I cannot, it would be death to me and your hopes, and your and my cause. My own hopes are that mother is not so ill as represented, and that they have written in such a strain to induce me to give up my purpose. What must I do? Oh! how I wish that you were at liberty to advise and comfort me. I am quite alone in this large place. David wished to go out with Thomas, and I could not refuse, 'tis the first time the request was made. Mrs. Hudson merely gave me the letter and then went out again; all is shut up and I feel to want your presence so much. Oh! Richard, I think my heart will burst, that cruel, taunting, unkind, insulting letter. I could have forgiven him if it had not contained the distressing intelligence of my mother's illness (inconsiderate, unfeeling wretch, you have not written in haste, but must have sat and premeditated every word, so-that you might doubly wound, doubly wring my over-whelmed heart). My dear Richard, what must I do? You are all the world to me, yet I cannot divest myself of those feelings which are now almost too much for me to bear. Were I to return home to-morrow it would perhaps avail nothing, and the idea is madness itself to me. You must forgive me, Richard, for troubling you with my grief and sorrow; but methinks my brain will turn if I do not give you a little of them. Remember you are my friend, my husband, and never did I require your love, your care so much as now. My brother has probed to my heart's core, by heaven, I think I shall never forgive him. I will never again write to him. He shall never hear from me. I will write to my sister to-morrow; how I feel for her, poor Maria. My heart is torn with contending emotion. I long to go home for mother's sake and Maria's, but for my own sake I wish to remain with you. I feel quite assured that if I return home that I shall never see you again, and what say you to that? Are you willing to relinquish your Isis, your bride? Oh Richard, do endeavor for my sake to obtain your liberty. I will endeavor to be all that you can wish. I will strive to equal Miss F. Wright. My eyes are quite swollen with tears, the first I have shed since I came to town. I wish much to breakfast with you this morning, but really I am afraid the Governor will think my visits too frequent. I, however, hope to see you some part of the day and to hear from you early in the morning. I am afraid, my dear Richard, you will think me very weak, very unlike a philosopher. It was only to-day I was boasting of courage and firmness. I cannot but think that empty vessels make the greatest sound.