The History of Emily Montague Part 25

I generally distrust my own opinion when it differs from your Lords.h.i.+p's; but in this instance I am most certainly in the right: allow me to say, nothing can be more ill-judged than your Lords.h.i.+p's design of retiring into a small circle, from that world of which you have so long been one of the most brilliant ornaments. What you say of the disagreableness of age, is by no means applicable to your Lords.h.i.+p; nothing is in this respect so fallible as the parish register. Why should any man retire from society whilst he is capable of contributing to the pleasures of it? Wit, vivacity, good-nature, and politeness, give an eternal youth, as stupidity and moroseness a premature old age. Without a thousandth part of your Lords.h.i.+p's s.h.i.+ning qualities, I think myself much younger than half the boys about me, meerly because I have more good-nature, and a stronger desire of pleasing.

My daughter is much honored by your Lords.h.i.+p's enquiries: she is Bell Fermor still; but is addressed by a gentleman who is extremely agreable to me, and I believe not less so to her; I however know too well the free spirit of woman, of which she has her full share, to let Bell know I approve her choice; I am even in doubt whether it would not be good policy to seem to dislike the match, in order to secure her consent: there is something very pleasing to a young girl, in opposing the will of her father.

To speak truth, I am a little out of humor with her at present, for having contributed, and I believe entirely from a spirit of opposition to me, to break a match on which I had extremely set my heart; the lady was the niece of my particular friend, and one of the most lovely and deserving women I ever knew: the gentleman very worthy, with an agreable, indeed a very handsome person, and a fortune which with those who know the world, would have compensated for the want of most other advantages.

The fair lady, after an engagement of two years, took a whim that there was no happiness in marriage without being madly in love, and that her pa.s.sion was not sufficiently romantic; in which piece of folly my rebel encouraged her, and the affair broke off in a manner which has brought on her the imputation of having given way to an idle prepossession in favor of another.

Your Lords.h.i.+p will excuse my talking on a subject very near my heart, though uninteresting to you; I have too often experienced your Lords.h.i.+p's indulgence to doubt it on this occasion: your good-natured philosophy will tell you, much fewer people talk or write to amuse or inform their friends, than to give way to the feelings of their own hearts, or indulge the governing pa.s.sion of the moment.

In my next, I will endeavor in the best manner I can, to obey your Lords.h.i.+p's commands in regard to the political and religious state of Canada: I will make a point of getting the best information possible; what I have yet seen, has been only the surface.

I have the honor to be, My Lord, Your Lords.h.i.+p's &c.

William Fermor.

LETTER 88.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Silleri, March 16, Monday.

Your brother is come back; and has been here: he came after dinner yesterday. My Emily is more than woman; I am proud of her behaviour: he entered with his usual impatient air; she received him with a dignity which astonished me, and disconcerted him: there was a cool dispa.s.sionate indifference in her whole manner, which I saw cut his vanity to the quick, and for which he was by no means prepared.

On such an occasion I should have flirted violently with some other man, and have shewed plainly I was piqued: she judged much better; I have only to wish it may last. He is the veriest coquet in nature, for, after all, I am convinced he loves Emily.

He stayed a very little time, and has not been here this morning; he may pout if he pleases, but I flatter myself we shall hold out the longest.

Nine o'clock.

He came to dine; we kept up our state all dinner time; he begged a moment's conversation, which we refused, but with a timid air that makes me begin to fear we shall beat a parley: he is this moment gone, and Emily retired to her apartment on pretence of indisposition: I am afraid she is a foolish girl.

Half hour after six.

It will not do, Lucy: I found her in tears at the window, following Rivers's carriole with her eyes: she turned to me with such a look--in short, my dear,

"The weak, the fond, the fool, the coward woman"

has prevailed over all her resolution: her love is only the more violent for having been a moment restrained; she is not equal to the task she has undertaken; her resentment was concealed tenderness, and has retaken its first form.

I am sorry to find there is not one wise woman in the world but myself.

Past ten.

I have been with her again: she seemed a little calmer; I commended her spirit; she disavowed it; was peevish with me, angry with herself; said she had acted in a manner unworthy her character; accused herself of caprice, artifice, and cruelty; said she ought to have seen him, if not alone, yet with me only: that it was natural he should be surprized at a reception so inconsistent with true friends.h.i.+p, and therefore that he should wish an explanation; that _her_ Rivers (and why not Madame Des Roches's Rivers?) was incapable of acting otherwise than as became the best and most tender of mankind, and that therefore she ought not to have suffered a whisper injurious to his honor: that I had meant well, but had, by depriving her of Rivers's friends.h.i.+p, which she had lost by her haughty behaviour, destroyed all the happiness of her life.

To be sure, your poor Bell is always to blame: but if ever I intermeddle between lovers again, Lucy--

I am sure she was ten times more angry with him than I was, but this it is to be too warm in the interest of our friends.

Adieu! till to-morrow.

Yours, A. Fermor.

I can only say, that if Fitzgerald had visited a handsome rich French widow, and staid with her ten days _tete a tete_ in the country, without my permission--

O Heavens! here is _mon cher pere_: I must hide my letter.

_Bon soir. _

LETTER 89.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Quebec, March 6.

I cannot account, my dear, for what has happened to me. I left Madame Des Roches's full of the warm impatience of love, and flew to my Emily at Silleri: I was received with a disdainful coldness which I did not think had been in her nature, and which has shocked me beyond all expression.

I went again to-day, and met with the same reception; I even saw my presence was painful to her, therefore shortened my visit, and, if I have resolution to persevere, will not go again till invited by Captain Fermor in form.

I could bear any thing but to lose her affection; my whole heart was set upon her: I had every reason to believe myself dear to her. Can caprice find a place in that bosom which is the abode of every virtue?

I must have been misrepresented to her, or surely this could not have happened: I will wait to-morrow, and if I hear nothing will write to her, and ask an explanation by letter; she refused me a verbal one to-day, though I begged to speak with her only for a moment.

Tuesday.

I have been asked on a little riding party, and, as I cannot go to Silleri, have accepted it: it will amuse my present anxiety.

I am to drive Mademoiselle Clairaut, a very pretty French lady: this is however of no consequence, for my eyes see nothing lovely but Emily.

Adieu!

Your affectionate Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 90.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Silleri, Wednesday morning.

Poor Emily is to meet with perpetual mortification: we have been carrioling with Fitzgerald and my father; and, coming back, met your brother driving Mademoiselle Clairaut: Emily trembled, turned pale, and scarce returned Rivers's bow; I never saw a poor little girl so in love; she is amazingly altered within the last fortnight.

Two o'clock.