Love and Freindship [sic]
wanted to mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent
her seeing that her scheme succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine
Merchant.” “Aye, I knew he was in some such low way—He broke did not
he?” “I beleive not Ma’am.” “Did not he abscond?” “I never heard that
he did.” “At least he died insolvent?” “I was never told so before.”
“Why, was not your _Father_ as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” “Was not
he in the Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him there.” She gave me
_such_ a look, and turned away in a great passion; while I was half
delighted with myself for my impertinence, and half afraid of being
thought too saucy. As Lady Greville was extremely angry with me, she
took no further notice of me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in
favour I should have been equally neglected, as she was got into a
Party of great folks and she never speaks to me when she can to anyone
else. Miss Greville was with her Mother’s party at supper, but Ellen
preferred staying with the Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant
Dance and as Lady G—slept all the way home, I had a very comfortable
ride.
The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville’s Coach stopped at
the door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it
should. She sent in a message by the servant to say that “she should
not get out but that Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she
wanted to speak to her, and that she must make haste and come
immediately—” “What an impertinent Message Mama!” said I—“Go Maria—”
replied she—Accordingly I went and was obliged to stand there at her
Ladyships pleasure though the Wind was extremely high and very cold.
“Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last
night—But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that
you may dine with us the day after tomorrow—Not tomorrow, remember, do
not come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas
Stanley’s family—There will be no occasion for your being very fine for
I shant send the Carriage—If it rains you may take an umbrella—” I
could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me leave to keep myself
dry—“And pray remember to be in time, for I shant wait—I hate my
Victuals over-done—But you need not come before the time—How does your
Mother do? She is at dinner is not she?” “Yes Ma’am we were in the
middle of dinner when your Ladyship came.” “I am afraid you find it
very cold Maria.” said Ellen. “Yes, it is an horrible East wind—said
her Mother—I assure you I can hardly bear the window down—But you are
used to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made
your Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often
ride in a Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the
wind shews your legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as
you do in such a day as this. But some sort of people have no feelings
either of cold or Delicacy—Well, remember that we shall expect you on
Thursday at 5 o’clock—You must tell your Maid to come for you at
night—There will be no Moon—and you will have an horrid walk home—My
compts to Your Mother—I am afraid your dinner will be cold—Drive on—”
And away she went, leaving me in a great passion with her as she always
does.
Maria Williams.
LETTER the FOURTH
From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind
We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very
agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her
appearance, for added to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and
voice had something peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that
they inspired me with a great curiosity to know the history of her
Life, who were her Parents, where she came from, and what had befallen
her, for it was then only known that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn,
and that her name was Grenville. In the evening a favourable
opportunity offered to me of attempting at least to know what I wished
to know, for every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr
Drayton, Miss Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged
in a whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of
necessity obliged to entertain each other. This was what I wished and
being determined not to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began
the Conversation in the following Manner.
“Have you been long in Essex Ma’am?”
“I arrived on Tuesday.”
“You came from Derbyshire?”
“No, Ma’am! appearing surprised at my question, from Suffolk.” You will
think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you know that I am not
wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. “Are you pleased
with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to the one you
have left?”
“Much superior Ma’am in point of Beauty.” She sighed. I longed to know
for why.
“But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a
poor consolation for the loss of one’s dearest Freinds.” She shook her
head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much
raised, that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it.
“You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?” “Indeed I do.”
“You were born there I suppose?” “Yes Ma’am I was and passed many happy
years there—”
“That is a great comfort—said I—I hope Ma’am that you never spent any
_un_happy one’s there.”
“Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a
right to expect uninterrupted Happiness.—_Some_ Misfortunes I have
certainly met with.”
“_What_ Misfortunes dear Ma’am? replied I, burning with impatience to
know every thing. “_None_ Ma’am I hope that have been the effect of any
wilfull fault in me.” “I dare say not Ma’am, and have no doubt but that
any sufferings you may have experienced could arise only from the
cruelties of Relations or the Errors of Freinds.” She sighed—“You seem
unhappy my dear Miss Grenville—Is it in my power to soften your
Misfortunes?” “_Your_ power Ma’am replied she extremely surprised; it
is in _no ones_ power to make me happy.” She pronounced these words in
so mournfull and solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage
to reply. I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few
moments and looking at her with all the affection I could, “My dear
Miss Grenville said I, you appear extremely young—and may probably
stand in need of some one’s advice whose regard for you, joined to
superior Age, perhaps superior Judgement might authorise her to give
it. I am that person, and I now challenge you to accept the offer I
make you of my Confidence and Freindship, in return to which I shall
only ask for yours—”
“You are extremely obliging Ma’am—said she—and I am highly flattered by
your attention to me—But I am in no difficulty, no doubt, no
uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever I
am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall
know where to apply.”
I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still
however I had not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of
sentiment and Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined
therefore to renew my attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do you
intend staying long in this part of England Miss Grenville?”
“Yes Ma’am, some time I beleive.”
“But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?”
“They are neither of them alive Ma’am.” This was an answer I did not
expect—I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my Life—.
LETTER the FIFTH
From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind
My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love
every day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I
had this morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from
my dear Musgrove.
Sackville St: Janry 7th
It is a month to day since I first beheld my lovely Henrietta, and the
sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in a manner becoming the
day—by writing to her. Never shall I forget the moment when her
Beauties first broke on my sight—No time as you well know can erase it
from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live
within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature first
entered the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight of you was
like the sight ofa wonderful fine Thing. I started—I gazed at her with
admiration—She appeared every moment more Charming, and the unfortunate
Musgrove became a captive to your Charms before I had time to look
about me. Yes Madam, I had the happiness of adoring you, an happiness
for which I cannot be too grateful. “What said he to himself is
Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? Enviable Mortal! and may he pine
for her who is the object of universal admiration, who is adored by a
Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful you
are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mortal. You are
an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are the prettiest
Girl I ever saw in my Life—and her Beauty is encreased in her Musgroves
Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. And ah!
Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do hope for
the death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since my fair
one will not consent to be mine till their decease has placed her in
affluence above what my fortune can procure—. Though it is an
improvable Estate—. Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I
am at Present with my sister where I mean to continue till my own house
which tho’ an excellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is
ready to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell—Of that
Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your most ardent Admirer and
devoted humble servt.
T. Musgrove.
There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such a
master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of
Thought, such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet?
No, never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with
by every Girl. Oh! how I long to be with him! I intend to send him the
following in answer to his Letter tomorrow.
My dearest Musgrove—. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made
me; I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than
any body in the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest
Man in England, and so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a
Letter in my Life. Do write me another just like it, and tell me you
are in love with me in every other line. I quite die to see you. How
shall we manage to see one another? for we are so much in love that we
cannot live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think how
impatiently I wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt—If they will not
Die soon, I beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you
every day of my Life.
How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her
house, and how happy every body in London must be because you are
there. I hope you will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I
never read such sweet Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most
truly and faithfully yours for ever and ever
Henrietta Halton.
I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write
though nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at a
Love-letter. I saw him you know for the first time at Lady
Scudamores—And when I saw her Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I
liked her Cousin Musgrove?
“Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man.”
“I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love
with you.”
“Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?”