The History of Emily Montague Part 8

It is really pretty enough that every absurd animal, who takes upon him to make love to one, is to fancy himself ent.i.tled to a return: I have no patience with the men's ridiculousness: have you, Lucy?

But I see a s.h.i.+p coming down under full sail; it may be Emily and her friends: the colours are all out, they slacken sail; they drop anchor opposite the house; 'tis certainly them; I must fly to the beach: music as I am a person, and an awning on the deck: the boat puts off with your brother in it. Adieu for a moment: I must go and invite them on sh.o.r.e.

2 o'clock.

'Twas Emily and Mrs. Melmoth, with two or three very pretty French women; your brother is a happy man: I found tea and coffee under the awning, and a table loaded with Montreal fruit, which is vastly better than ours; by the way, the colonel has brought me an immensity; he is so gallant and all that: we regaled ourselves, and landed; they dine here, and we dance in the evening; we are to have a syllabub in the wood: my father has sent for Sir George and Major Melmoth, and half a dozen of the most agreable men, from Quebec: he is enchanted with his little Emily, he loved her when she was a child. I cannot tell you how happy I am; my Emily is handsomer than ever; you know how partial I am to beauty: I never had a friends.h.i.+p for an ugly woman in my life.

Adieu! _ma tres chere_.

Yours, A. Fermor.

Your brother looks like an angel this morning; he is not drest, he is not undrest, but somehow, easy, elegant and enchanting: he has no powder, and his hair a little _degagee_, blown about by the wind, and agreably disordered; such fire in his countenance; his eyes say a thousand agreable things; he is in such spirits as I never saw him: not a man of them has the least chance to-day. I shall be in love with him if he goes on at this rate: not that it will be to any purpose in the world; he never would even flirt with me, though I have made him a thousand advances.

My heart is so light, Lucy, I cannot describe it: I love Emily at my soul: 'tis three years since I saw her, and there is something so romantic in finding her in Canada: there is no saying how happy I am: I want only you, to be perfectly so.

3 o'clock.

The messenger is returned; Sir George is gone with a party of French ladies to Lake Charles: Emily blushed when the message was delivered; he might reasonably suppose they would be here to-day, as the wind was fair: your brother dances with my sweet friend; she loses nothing by the exchange; she is however a little piqued at this appearance of disrespect.

12 o'clock.

Sir George came just as we sat down to supper; he did right, he complained first, and affected to be angry she had not sent an express from _Point au Tremble_. He was however gayer than usual, and very attentive to his mistress; your brother seemed chagrined at his arrival; Emily perceived it, and redoubled her politeness to him, which in a little time restored part of his good humor: upon the whole, it was an agreable evening, but it would have been more so, if Sir George had come at first, or not at all.

The ladies lie here, and we go all together in the morning to Quebec; the gentlemen are going.

I steal a moment to seal, and give this to the colonel, who will put it in his packet to-morrow.

LETTER 24.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Quebec, Sept. 30.

Would you believe it possible, my dear, that Sir George should decline attending Emily Montague from Montreal, and leave the pleasing commission to me? I am obliged to him for the three happiest days of my life, yet am piqued at his chusing me for a _cecisbeo_ to his mistress: he seems to think me a man _sans consequence_, with whom a lady may safely be trusted; there is nothing very flattering in such a kind of confidence: let him take care of himself, if he is impertinent, and sets me at defiance; I am not vain, but set our fortunes aside, and I dare enter the lists with Sir George Clayton. I cannot give her a coach and six; but I can give her, what is more conducive to happiness, a heart which knows how to value her perfections.

I never had so pleasing a journey; we were three days coming down, because we made it a continual party of pleasure, took music with us, landed once or twice a day, visited the French families we knew, lay both nights on sh.o.r.e, and danced at the seigneur's of the village.

This river, from Montreal to Quebec, exhibits a scene perhaps not to be matched in the world: it is settled on both sides, though the settlements are not so numerous on the south sh.o.r.e as on the other: the lovely confusion of woods, mountains, meadows, corn fields, rivers (for there are several on both sides, which lose themselves in the St.

Lawrence), intermixed with churches and houses breaking upon you at a distance through the trees, form a variety of landscapes, to which it is difficult to do justice.

This charming scene, with a clear serene sky, a gentle breeze in our favor, and the conversation of half a dozen fine women, would have made the voyage pleasing to the most insensible man on earth: my Emily too of the party, and most politely attentive to the pleasure she saw I had in making the voyage agreable to her.

I every day love her more; and, without considering the impropriety of it, I cannot help giving way to an inclination, in which I find such exquisite pleasure; I find a thousand charms in the least trifle I can do to oblige her.

Don't reason with me on this subject: I know it is madness to continue to see her; but I find a delight in her conversation, which I cannot prevail on myself to give up till she is actually married.

I respect her engagements, and pretend to no more from her than her friends.h.i.+p; but, as to myself, will love her in whatever manner I please: to shew you my prudence, however, I intend to dance with the handsomest unmarried Frenchwoman here on Thursday, and to shew her an attention which shall destroy all suspicion of my tenderness for Emily.

I am jealous of Sir George, and hate him; but I dissemble it better than I thought it possible for me to do.

My Lucy, I am not happy; my mind is in a state not to be described; I am weak enough to encourage a hope for which there is not the least foundation; I misconstrue her friends.h.i.+p for me every moment; and that attention which is meerly grat.i.tude for my apparent anxiety to oblige.

I even fancy her eyes understand mine, which I am afraid speak too plainly the sentiments of my heart.

I love her, my dear girl, to madness; these three days--

I am interrupted. Adieu!

Yours, Ed. Rivers.

'Tis Capt. Fermor, who insists on my dining at Silleri. They will eternally throw me in the way of this lovely woman: of what materials do they suppose me formed?

LETTER 25.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Silleri, Oct. 3, Twelve o'clock.

An enchanting ball, my dear; your little friend's head is turned. I was more admired than Emily, which to be sure did not flatter my vanity at all: I see she must content herself with being beloved, for without coquetry 'tis in vain to expect admiration.

We had more than three hundred persons at the ball; above three fourths men; all gay and well dressed, an elegant supper; in short, it was charming.

I am half inclined to marry; I am not at all acquainted with the man I have fixed upon, I never spoke to him till last night, nor did he take the least notice of me, more than of other ladies, but that is nothing; he pleases me better than any man I have seen here; he is not handsome, but well made, and looks like a gentleman; he has a good character, is heir to a very pretty estate. I will think further of it: there is nothing more easy than to have him if I chuse it: 'tis only saying to some of his friends, that I think Captain Fitzgerald the most agreable fellow here, and he will immediately be astonished he did not sooner find out I was the handsomest woman. I will consider this affair seriously; one must marry, 'tis the mode; every body marries; why don't you marry, Lucy?

This brother of yours is always here; I am surprized Sir George is not jealous, for he pays no sort of attention to me, 'tis easy to see why he comes; I dare say I shan't see him next week: Emily is going to Mrs. Melmoth's, where she stays till to-morrow sevennight; she goes from hence as soon as dinner is over.

Adieu! I am fatigued; we danced till morning; I am but this moment up.

Yours, A. Fermor.

Your brother danced with Mademoiselle Clairaut; do you know I was piqued he did not give me the preference, as Emily danced with her lover? not but that I had perhaps a partner full as agreable, at least I have a mind to think so.

I hear it whispered that the whole affair of the wedding is to be settled next week; my father is in the secret, I am not. Emily looks ill this morning; she was not gay at the ball. I know not why, but she is not happy. I have my fancies, but they are yet only fancies.

Adieu! my dear girl; I can no more.

LETTER 26.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Quebec, Oct. 6.