The Sylph, Volume I and II - The Original Classic Edition. Cavendish Georgiana

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Sylph, Volume I and II - The Original Classic Edition - Cavendish Georgiana страница 6

The Sylph, Volume I and II - The Original Classic Edition - Cavendish Georgiana

Скачать книгу

methods; but there is only one way to subdue women.

       Whom do you think he has introduced as chaperons to his wife? Lady Besford, and Lady Anne Parker. Do not you admire his choice? Oh! they will be charming associates for her! But I have nothing to say against it, as I think their counsels will further my schemes. Lady Besford might not be so much amiss; but Lady Anne! think of her, with whom he is belied if he has not had an affair. What madness! It is like him, however. Let him then take the consequences of his folly; and such clever fellows as you and I the advantage of them. Adieu, dear Jack! I shall see you, I hope, as soon as you come to town. I shall want you in a scheme I have in my head, but which I do not think proper to trust to paper. Your's,

       BIDDULPH. LETTER V.

       TO Lady STANLEY.

       I have lost you, my Julia; and who shall supply your loss? How much am I alone! and yet, if you are happy, I must and will be satisfied. I should, however, be infinitely more so, if you had any companion to guide your footsteps through the devious path of life: I wish you some experienced director. Have you not yet made an acquaintance which may be useful to you? Though you are prevented appearing in public, yet I think it should have been Sir William's first care to provide you with some agreeable sensible female friend one who may love you as well as your Louisa, and may, by having lived in the world, have it more in her power to be of service to you.

       My father misses you as much as I do: I will not repeat all he says, lest you should think he repents of his complying with Sir William's importunity. Write to us very often, and tell us you are happy; that will be the only consolation we can receive in your absence. Oh, this vow! It binds my father to this spot. Not that I wish to enter into the world. I doubt faithlessness and insincerity are very prevalent there, since they could find their way among our mountains. But let me not overcloud your sunshine. I was, you know,

       8

       always of a serious turn. May no accident make you so, since your natural disposition is chearfulness itself !

       I read your letter to my father; he seemed pleased at your wish of being acquainted with the incidents of his life: he will enter on the task very soon. There is nothing, he says, which can, from the nature of things, be a guide to you in your passage through the world, any farther than not placing too much confidence in the prospect of felicity, with which you see yourself surrounded; but always

       to keep in mind, we are but in a state of probation here, and consequently but for a short time: that, as our happiness is liable to change, we ought not to prize the possession so much as to render ourselves miserable when that change comes; neither, when we are oppressed with the rod of affliction, should we sink into despair, as we are certain our woe, like ourselves, is mortal. Receive the blessing of our only parent, joined with the affectionate love of a tender sister. Adieu!

       LOUISA GRENVILLE LETTER VI.

       To JAMES SPENCER, Esq.

       It is high time, my dear Spencer, to account to you for the whimsical journey, as you called it, which your friend undertook so suddenly. I meant not to keep that, or even my motives for it, a secret from you. The esteem you have ever shewn me merited my most unlimited confidence.

       You said, you thought I must have some other view than merely to visit the ruins of a paternal estate, lost to me by the extravagant folly of my poor father. You said true; I had indeed some other view; but alas! how blasted is that view! Long had my heart cherished the fondest attachment for the loveliest and best of human beings, who inhabited the mountains, which once my father owned. My fortune was too circumscribed to disclose my flame; but I secretly indulged it, from the remote hope of having it one day in my power to receive her hand without blushing at my inferiority in point of wealth. These thoughts, these wishes, have supported me through an absence of two years from my native land, and all that made my native land dear to me.

       Her loved idea heightened every joy I received, and softened every care. I knew I possessed her esteem; but I never, from the first of my acquaintance, gave the least hint of what I felt for, or hoped from, her. I should have thought myself base in the highest degree, to have made an interest in her bosom, which I had nothing to support on my side but the sanguine wishes of youth, that some

       turn of Fortune's wheel might be in my favour. You know how amply, as well as unexpectedly, I am now provided for by our dear Frederic's death. How severely have I felt and mourned his loss! But he is happier than in any situation which our friendship for him could have found.

       I could run any lengths in praising one so dear to me; but he was equally so to you, and you are fully acquainted with my sentiments on this head; besides, I have something more to the purpose at present to communicate to you.

       All the satisfaction I ever expected from the acquisition of fortune was, to share it with my love. Nothing but that hope and prospect could have enabled me to sustain the death of my friend. In the bosom of my Julia I fondly hoped to experience those calm delights which his loss deprived me of for some time. Alas! that long-indulged hope is sunk in despair! Oh! my Spencer! she's lost, lost to me for ever! Yet what right had I to think she would not be seen, and, being seen, admired, loved, and courted? But, from the singularity of her father's disposition, who had vowed never to mix in the world;--a disappointment of the tenderest kind which her elder sister had met with, and the almost monastic seclusion from society in which she lived, joined to her extreme youth, being but seventeen the day I left you in London: all these circumstances, I say, concurred once to authorize my fond hopes,--and these hopes have nursed my despair. Oh! I knew not how much I loved her, till I saw her snatched from me for ever. A few months sooner, and I

       might have pleaded some merit with the lovely maid from my long and unremitted attachment. My passion was interwoven with my existence,--with that it grew, and with that only will expire.

       "My dear-lov'd Julia! from my youth began

       The tender flame, and ripen'd in the man;

       My dear-lov'd Julia! to my latest age,

       No other vows shall e'er my heart engage."

       Full of the fond ideas which seemed a part of myself, I flew down to Woodley-vale, to reap the long-expected harvest of my hopes.--Good God! what was the fatal news I learnt on my arrival! Alas! she knew not of my love and constancy;--she had a few weeks before given her hand, and no doubt her heart, to Sir William Stanley, with whom an accident had brought her acquainted.

       I will not enlarge upon what were my feelings on this occasion.--Words would be too faint a vehicle to express the anguish of my soul. You, who know the tenderness of my disposition, must judge for me.

       9

       Yesterday I saw the dear angel, from the inn from whence I am writing; she and her happy husband stopped here for fresh horses. I had a full view of her beauteous face. Ah! how much has two years improved each charm in her lovely person! lovely and charming, but not for me. I kept myself concealed from her--I could hardly support the sight of her at a distance; my emotions were more violent than you can conceive. Her dress became her the best in the world; a riding habit of stone-coloured cloth, lined with rose-colour, and frogs of the same--the collar of her shirt was open at the neck, and discovered her lovely ivory throat. Her hair was in a little disorder, which, with her hat, served to contribute to, and heighten, the almost irresistible charms of her features. There was a pensiveness in her manner, which rendered her figure more interesting and touching than usual. I thought I discovered the traces of

       a tear on her cheek. She had just parted with her father and sister; and, had she shewn less concern, I should not have been so satisfied with her. I gazed till my eye-balls ached; but, when the chaise drove from the door--oh! what then became of me! "She's gone! she's gone!" I exclaimed aloud, wringing my hands,

Скачать книгу