I have a serious subject to offer to your consideration, which
made me the rather chuse to engage your attention in this manner,
than in a conversation between ourselves; liable as that would be
to interruptions, objections, and frivolous punctilios, from which
you have already suffered so severely.
I have paid so much regard to that decorum of which you are so
fond, as never to have mentioned Mr Faulkland's name to you since
you were become a widow, though it is near four months since he
returned to England.
As I kept up a correspondence with him when he was abroad, you may
be sure I informed him of your reconciliation to your late
husband; a reconciliation, which, if you thought it a happiness to
you, you were indebted to Faulkland for. This single circumstance
it was that inclined him to return to England, which otherwise
perhaps he would never again have seen, though the necessity of
his affairs here, which he had left at random, required his
presence. To avoid giving umbrage to your husband, he repaired
privately to his house in the country, where I paid him a visit.
Few of his friends, except myself, knew of his being in the
kingdom.
Remember, Sidney, the great obligations you have to Mr Faulkland,
and let that prepare your mind for what I am going to say.
You are now become a free woman: Faulkland loves you still, with
an unparallel'd affection. I had a letter from him soon after your
arrival in town, wherein he mentions the revival of his hopes from
your present situation, and intreats me to be mindful of his
interest. He charged me, however, not to mention his name to you,
till a decent time was passed; otherwise probably you would have
been acquainted with these particulars sooner: but Faulkland
himself has a little too much of that ridiculous nicety which you
admire so. I think I have waited till a _very_ decent time, as you
have now been almost three months a widow.
I have very little reason to imagine that _my_ influence, on this
occasion, will have any weight either with you or my mother: I
have had proofs of this already; but I hope you will not be so
blind to your own interest, as to refuse the good that fortune
once more throws at your feet. I can hardly suppose you so weak,
as to let the absurd objection, which formerly prevented your
happiness, still prevail with you to reject the same happiness, so
unexpectedly again offered to your acceptance.
My mother and you have by this time learnt how to forgive _human
frailties_. Indeed you forgave such enormities, that Faulkland's
transgression, in comparison of them, was innocence. But I will
not reproach the memory of the dead.
Whatever pretence you might formerly have had to carry your
punctilios to an extraordinary height, certain circumstances in
your life have now made your situation very different. You are
destitute of fortune, incumbered with children. Reflect on this,
and let your own imagination supply the rest. To any-body but
yourself, I should think all that I have said needless; but I know
the minds that I have to deal with.
I must take this opportunity of telling you, that I am surprized
at my mother's continued attachment to Miss Burchell; she is an
artful creature, and, I think, by no means a proper acquaintance
for you. I am far from wishing to injure her; but such an intimacy
may be dangerous.
You will certainly hear from Faulkland before it be long. I repeat
it again, You owe him more than ever you will be able to repay:
the recompence he deserves will ensure your own happiness and
prosperity: your gratitude, as well as your prudence, will now be
put to the test, and your conduct, on this occasion, will
determine me as to the light in which I shall henceforth consider
you.
Present my duty to my mother. Lady Sarah desires her service may
be accepted.