I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long delayed thanking
you my dear Peggy for your agreable Letter, which beleive me I should
not have deferred doing, had not every moment of my time during the
last five weeks been so fully employed in the necessary arrangements
for my sisters wedding, as to allow me no time to devote either to you
or myself. And now what provokes me more than anything else is that the
Match is broke off, and all my Labour thrown away. Imagine how great
the Dissapointment must be to me, when you consider that after having
laboured both by Night and by Day, in order to get the Wedding dinner
ready by the time appointed, after having roasted Beef, Broiled Mutton,
and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married Couple through the
Honey-moon, I had the mortification of finding that I had been
Roasting, Broiling and Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no purpose.
Indeed my dear Freind, I never remember suffering any vexation equal to
what I experienced on last Monday when my sister came running to me in
the store-room with her face as White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me
that Hervey had been thrown from his Horse, had fractured his Scull and
was pronounced by his surgeon to be in the most emminent Danger. “Good
God! (said I) you dont say so? Why what in the name of Heaven will
become of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to eat it while it
is good. However, we’ll call in the Surgeon to help us. I shall be able
to manage the Sir-loin myself, my Mother will eat the soup, and You and
the Doctor must finish the rest.” Here I was interrupted, by seeing my
poor Sister fall down to appearance Lifeless upon one of the Chests,
where we keep our Table linen. I immediately called my Mother and the
Maids, and at last we brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she
was sensible, she expressed a determination of going instantly to
Henry, and was so wildly bent on this Scheme, that we had the greatest
Difficulty in the World to prevent her putting it in execution; at last
however more by Force than Entreaty we prevailed on her to go into her
room; we laid her upon the Bed, and she continued for some Hours in the
most dreadful Convulsions. My Mother and I continued in the room with
her, and when any intervals of tolerable Composure in Eloisa would
allow us, we joined in heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful Waste in
our provisions which this Event must occasion, and in concerting some
plan for getting rid of them. We agreed that the best thing we could do
was to begin eating them immediately, and accordingly we ordered up the
cold Ham and Fowls, and instantly began our Devouring Plan on them with
great Alacrity. We would have persuaded Eloisa to have taken a Wing of
a Chicken, but she would not be persuaded. She was however much quieter
than she had been; the convulsions she had before suffered having given
way to an almost perfect Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by
every means in our power, but to no purpose. I talked to her of Henry.
“Dear Eloisa (said I) there’s no occasion for your crying so much about
such a trifle. (for I was willing to make light of it in order to
comfort her) I beg you would not mind it—You see it does not vex me in
the least; though perhaps I may suffer most from it after all; for I
shall not only be obliged to eat up all the Victuals I have dressed
already, but must if Henry should recover (which however is not very
likely) dress as much for you again; or should he die (as I suppose he
will) I shall still have to prepare a Dinner for you whenever you marry
any one else. So you see that tho’ perhaps for the present it may
afflict you to think of Henry’s sufferings, Yet I dare say he’ll die
soon, and then his pain will be over and you will be easy, whereas my
Trouble will last much longer for work as hard as I may, I am certain
that the pantry cannot be cleared in less than a fortnight.” Thus I did
all in my power to console her, but without any effect, and at last as
I saw that she did not seem to listen to me, I said no more, but
leaving her with my Mother I took down the remains of The Ham and
Chicken, and sent William to ask how Henry did. He was not expected to
live many Hours; he died the same day. We took all possible care to
break the melancholy Event to Eloisa in the tenderest manner; yet in
spite of every precaution, her sufferings on hearing it were too
violent for her reason, and she continued for many hours in a high
Delirium. She is still extremely ill, and her Physicians are greatly
afraid of her going into a Decline. We are therefore preparing for
Bristol, where we mean to be in the course of the next week. And now my
dear Margaret let me talk a little of your affairs; and in the first
place I must inform you that it is confidently reported, your Father is
going to be married; I am very unwilling to beleive so unpleasing a
report, and at the same time cannot wholly discredit it. I have written
to my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for information concerning it, which as
she is at present in Town, she will be very able to give me. I know not
who is the Lady. I think your Brother is extremely right in the
resolution he has taken of travelling, as it will perhaps contribute to
obliterate from his remembrance, those disagreable Events, which have
lately so much afflicted him—I am happy to find that tho’ secluded from
all the World, neither you nor Matilda are dull or unhappy—that you may
never know what it is to, be either is the wish of your sincerely
affectionate