Part 11 (2/2)

M. SUTTON.

LETTER XXI.

Lord DARCEY to the Hon. GEORGE MOLESWORTH.

_Barford Alley_.

Five days more, and I am with you.--Sat.u.r.day morning!--Oh that I may support the hour of trial with fort.i.tude!--I tremble at the thought;--my blood freezes in my veins, when I behold the object I am to part from.--

I try in vain to keep out of her sight:--if I attempt to leave the room where she is, my resolutions are baffled before I reach the door.--Why do I endeavour to inflict so hard a penance!--Because I foolishly suppose it would wean me.--Wean me _from what?_--From virtue.--No, Molesworth, it is not _absence_;--it is not _time_ itself can deaden the exalted image;--it neither sickens or dies, it blooms to immortality,

Was I only to be parted from beauty, _that_ I might meet again in every town and village.--I want you to force me from the house.--Suppose I get up early, and slip away without taking leave.--But that will not do;--Sir James is ceremonious;--Lady Powis may deem it disrespect;--above all, Miss Warley, _that dear, dear Miss Warley_,--if _she_ should think me wanting in regard, all then must be at an end.

Ha! Sir James yonder on the terrace, and alone! Let me examine his countenance:--I see no clouds;--this is the time, if ever!--Miss Warley not yet come up from Jenkings's!--If successful, with what transports shall I run to fetch her!--_Yes, I will_ venture;--_I will_ have one trial, as I hope for mercy.--

_As I hope for mercy_, I see, were my last words.--I do indeed hope for it, but never from Sir James.

Still perplexed;--still miserable!--

I told you Miss Warley was not come from Jenkings's; but how I started, when I saw her going to Lady Powis's dressing-room!

I was hurried about her in a dream, last night.--I thought I had lost her:--I hinted it when we met;--that moment I fancied she eyed me with regard;--she spoke _too_ in a manner very different from what she has done some days past.--Then I'll swear it,--for it was not illusion, George,--her whole face had something of a sweet melancholy spread over it;--a kind of resignation in her look;--a melting softness that droop'd on her cheek:--I felt what it expressed;--it fir'd my whole frame;--it sent me to Sir James with redoubled eagerness.

I found him thoughtful and complaisant: we took several turns, before I could introduce my intended subject; when, talking of my setting out, I said, Now I have an opportunity, Sir James, perhaps I may not have another before I go, I should be glad of your sentiments in regard to my settling in life.--

How do you mean, my Lord; as to the choice of a wife?--

Why, I think, Sir, there's no other way of settling to one's satisfaction.

To be sure, it is very necessary your Lords.h.i.+p should consider on those matters,--especially as you are the last of a n.o.ble family:--when, you do fix, I hope it will be _prudently_.

_Prudently_, Sir James! you may depend on it I will never settle my affections _imprudently_.

Wall, but, my Lord, what are your notions of _prudence?_

Why, Sir, to make choice of a person who is virtuous, sensible, well descended.--_Well descended Jenkings has a.s.sured me she is_.

You say nothing, my Lord, of what is _most_ essential to happiness;--nothing of the _main point_.

Good-nature, I suppose you mean:--I would not marry an ill-natur'd woman, Sir James, for the world. And is good-nature, with those you have mention'd, the only requisites?

I think they are the chief, Sir.

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