We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, and I already
heartily repent that I ever left our charming House in Portman-square
for such a dismal old weather-beaten Castle as this. You can form no
idea sufficiently hideous, of its dungeon-like form. It is actually
perched upon a Rock to appearance so totally inaccessible, that I
expected to have been pulled up by a rope; and sincerely repented
having gratified my curiosity to behold my Daughters at the expence of
being obliged to enter their prison in so dangerous and ridiculous a
manner. But as soon as I once found myself safely arrived in the inside
of this tremendous building, I comforted myself with the hope of having
my spirits revived, by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as the
Miss Lesleys had been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But here again,
I met with nothing but Disappointment and Surprise. Matilda and
Margaret Lesley are two great, tall, out of the way, over-grown, girls,
just of a proper size to inhabit a Castle almost as large in comparison
as themselves. I wish my dear Charlotte that you could but behold these
Scotch giants; I am sure they would frighten you out of your wits. They
will do very well as foils to myself, so I have invited them to
accompany me to London where I hope to be in the course of a fortnight.
Besides these two fair Damsels, I found a little humoured Brat here who
I beleive is some relation to them, they told me who she was, and gave
me a long rigmerole story of her father and a Miss _Somebody_ which I
have entirely forgot. I hate scandal and detest Children. I have been
plagued ever since I came here with tiresome visits from a parcel of
Scotch wretches, with terrible hard-names; they were so civil, gave me
so many invitations, and talked of coming again so soon, that I could
not help affronting them. I suppose I shall not see them any more, and
yet as a family party we are so stupid, that I do not know what to do
with myself. These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no Drawings
but Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch Poems—and I hate
everything Scotch. In general I can spend half the Day at my toilett
with a great deal of pleasure, but why should I dress here, since there
is not a creature in the House whom I have any wish to please. I have
just had a conversation with my Brother in which he has greatly
offended me, and which as I have nothing more entertaining to send you
I will gave you the particulars of. You must know that I have for these
4 or 5 Days past strongly suspected William of entertaining a
partiality to my eldest Daughter. I own indeed that had _I_ been
inclined to fall in love with any woman, I should not have made choice
of Matilda Lesley for the object of my passion; for there is nothing I
hate so much as a tall Woman: but however there is no accounting for
some men’s taste and as William is himself nearly six feet high, it is
not wonderful that he should be partial to that height. Now as I have a
very great affection for my Brother and should be extremely sorry to
see him unhappy, which I suppose he means to be if he cannot marry
Matilda, as moreover I know that his circumstances will not allow him
to marry any one without a fortune, and that Matilda’s is entirely
dependant on her Father, who will neither have his own inclination nor
my permission to give her anything at present, I thought it would be
doing a good-natured action by my Brother to let him know as much, in
order that he might choose for himself, whether to conquer his passion,
or Love and Despair. Accordingly finding myself this Morning alone with
him in one of the horrid old rooms of this Castle, I opened the cause
to him in the following Manner.
“Well my dear William what do you think of these girls? for my part, I
do not find them so plain as I expected: but perhaps you may think me
partial to the Daughters of my Husband and perhaps you are right—They
are indeed so very like Sir George that it is natural to think”—
“My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest amazement) You do
not really think they bear the least resemblance to their Father! He is
so very plain!—but I beg your pardon—I had entirely forgotten to whom I
was speaking—”
“Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows Sir George is
horribly ugly, and I assure you I always thought him a fright.”
“You surprise me extremely (answered William) by what you say both with
respect to Sir George and his Daughters. You cannot think your Husband
so deficient in personal Charms as you speak of, nor can you surely see
any resemblance between him and the Miss Lesleys who are in my opinion
perfectly unlike him and perfectly Handsome.”
“If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it certainly is no
proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are perfectly unlike him and
very handsome at the same time, it is natural to suppose that he is
very plain.”
“By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a Woman, may be very
unpleasing in a Man.”
“But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago allowed him to be
very plain.”
“Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex.” (said he).
“Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George tolerable.”
“Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about _his_ Beauty, but your
opinion of his _Daughters_ is surely very singular, for if I understood
you right, you said you did not find them so plain as you expected to
do!”
“Why, do _you_ find them plainer then?” (said I).
“I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he) when you speak
of their persons in so extroidinary a Manner. Do not you think the Miss
Lesleys are two very handsome young Women?”
“Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!”
“Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot really think so! Why
what single Feature in the face of either of them, can you possibly
find fault with?”
“Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin with the
eldest—with Matilda. Shall I, William?” (I looked as cunning as I could
when I said it, in order to shame him).
“They are so much alike (said he) that I should suppose the faults of
one, would be the faults of both.”
“Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horribly tall!”
“They are _taller_ than you are indeed.” (said he with a saucy smile.)
“Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that.”
“Well, but (he continued) tho’ they may be above the common size, their
figures are perfectly elegant; and as to their faces, their Eyes are
beautifull.”
“I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down figures in the least
degree elegant, and as for their eyes, they are so tall that I never
could strain my neck enough to look at them.”
“Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be in the right in
not attempting it, for perhaps they might dazzle you with their
Lustre.”
“Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest complacency, for I assure
you my dearest Charlotte I was not in the least offended tho’ by what
followed, one would suppose that William was conscious of having given
me just cause to be so, for coming up to me and taking my hand, he
said) “You must not look so grave Susan; you will make me fear I have
offended you!”
“Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a thought in your head!
(returned I) No really! I assure you that I am not in the least
surprised at your being so warm an advocate for the Beauty of these
girls.”—
“Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we have not yet
concluded our dispute concerning them. What fault do you find with
their complexion?”
“They are so horridly pale.”
“They have always a little colour, and after any exercise it is
considerably heightened.”
“Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain in this part of
the world, they will never be able raise more than their common
stock—except indeed they amuse themselves with running up and Down
these horrid old galleries and Antichambers.”
“Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and glancing an
impertinent look at me) if they _have_ but little colour, at least, it
is all their own.”
This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am certain that he had the
impudence by that look, of pretending to suspect the reality of mine.
But you I am sure will vindicate my character whenever you may hear it
so cruelly aspersed, for you can witness how often I have protested
against wearing Rouge, and how much I always told you I disliked it.
And I assure you that my opinions are still the same.—. Well, not
bearing to be so suspected by my Brother, I left the room immediately,
and have been ever since in my own Dressing-room writing to you. What a
long letter have I made of it! But you must not expect to receive such
from me when I get to Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that one
has time to write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.—. I was so much vexed
by William’s glance, that I could not summon Patience enough, to stay
and give him that advice respecting his attachment to Matilda which had
first induced me from pure Love to him to begin the conversation; and I
am now so thoroughly convinced by it, of his violent passion for her,
that I am certain he would never hear reason on the subject, and I
shall there fore give myself no more trouble either about him or his
favourite. Adeiu my dear girl—
Yrs affectionately Susan L.
LETTER the SEVENTH
From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY