Poor Cecily part 1

My name is Cecily Hartwood, and at my present age of 17, I had felt secure,

until on the morning of the 14th of June, in the year of our Lord, 1763,

my most beloved Uncle Morse died of what the doctors described as a heart seizure.

Only a few days before, Uncle Morse and I had gone riding.

It was a sad moment, but it was to be his last ride,