Part 9 (2/2)
LETTER XVII.
Miss WARLEY to the same.
_From Mr. Jenkings's_.
Sent for before breakfast!--n.o.body in the coach!--Well, I am glad of that, however.--Something very extraordinary must have happen'd.--I hope Lady Powis is not ill.--No other message but to desire I would come immediately.--I go, my dear Lady; soon as I return will acquaint you what has occasion'd me this _early_ summons.
Eight o'clock at Night.
No ill news! quite the reverse:--I am escaped from the house of festivity to make your Ladys.h.i.+p a partaker.
My spirits are in a flutter.--I know not where to begin.--I have run every step of the way, till I am quite out of breath.--Mr. Powis is coming home,--absolutely coming home to settle;--married _too_, but I cannot tell all at once.--Letters with an account of it have been this morning receiv'd. He does not say _who_ his wife is, only one of the best women in the world.
She will be received with affection;--I know she will.--Lady Powis declares, they shall be folded together in her arms.
It was too much for Sir James, he quite roared again when he held out to me the letter,--I don't believe he has eat a morsel this day.--I never before saw a man so affected with joy.--Thank G.o.d! I left him pure and calm.
The servants were like mad creatures, particularly those who lived in the family before Mr. Powis left England.--He seems, in short, to be considered as one risen from the dead.--
I was in such haste on receiving Lady Powis's message, that I ran down to the coach, my hat and cloak in my hand.--Mr. and Mrs. Jenkings were talking to the coachman.--I soon perceived by them something pleasing had happen'd.--They caught me in their arms, and I thought would have smother'd me in their embraces; crying out, Mr. Powis is coming home, my dear;--Mr. Powis is coming home:--for G.o.d's sake, Madam, make haste up to the Hall.
In getting into the coach, I stepp'd on my ap.r.o.n, and fell against the opposite door.--My right arm was greatly bruis'd, which I did not perceive till I drew on my glove.
The moment I alighted, I ran to the breakfast-parlour; but finding no one there, went directly to her Ladys.h.i.+p's dressing-room.--She open'd the door, when she heard me coming. I flew to her.--I threw my arms about her neck, and all I could say in my hurry was, Joy, Joy, Joy!
I am all joy, my love, she return'd--I am made up of nothing else. I quitted her to run to Sir James, who was sitting in a great chair with a letter held out. I believe I kiss'd him twenty times before I took it;--there could be no harm in that surely.--Such endearments I should have shewn my father, on the like tender occasion. He wept, as I have said, till he quite roared again.--I laid his head on my shoulder, and it was some time before I would mention his son's name.
Lord Darcey held one of Sir James's hands: he was in the room when I enter'd; but I declare I never saw him till he spoke. He is safe _now_,--after what happened yesterday,--safe from any imputation on _my_ account--
Very kind and very civil, upon my word! O! your Ladys.h.i.+p never heard such a fuss as he made about the scratch on my arm.--I affect to look pleased when he speaks to me, that he might not take it into his head I am mortified.
He must be the happiest creature in the world; I honour him for the grateful affection he shews Sir James and Lady Powis.
Breakfast stood on the table: not a soul had broke their fast.--Her Ladys.h.i.+p was here, there, and every where.--I was sadly afraid they would be all sick; at length I prevailed on them to drink a cup of chocolate.--
Mr. Watson, good man notwithstanding his indisposition, got up at eleven.--I met him coming from his apartment, and had the pleasure of leading him to the happy family.--
His congratulations were delivered with such serene joy,--such warmth of affection,--as if he had cull'd the heart-felt satisfaction of both _parents_.
The word _happy_ echoed from every mouth; each sentence began and ended with it.--What the heart feels is seldom to be disguised.--Grief will speak,--if not by the tongue, it will out;--it hangs on the features, sallows the skin, withers the sinews, and is a galling weight that pulls towards the ground.--Why should a thought of grief intrude at this time?--Is not my dear Lady Mary's health returning?--Is not felicity restor'd to this family?--Now will my regret at parting be lessened;--now shall I leave every individual with minds perfectly at ease.
Mr. Powis is expected in less than a month, intending to embark in the next s.h.i.+p after the Packet.--How I long to see him!--But it is very unlikely I should; I shall certainly have taken my leave of this place before he arrives.--By your Ladys.h.i.+p's permission, I hope to look in upon them, at our return to England.
What genteel freedoms men give themselves after _declaring off_, as Miss Winter calls it?--I had never so many fine things said to me before;--I can't tell how many;--quite a superabundance;--and before Sir James _too!_--But no notice is taken; he has cleared himself of all suspicion.--He may go to town as soon as he will.--His business is done;--yes, he did it yesterday.
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