_Lady Susan to Mr. De Courcy._
Upper Seymour Street.
I will not attempt to describe my astonishment in reading the note this
moment received from you. I am bewildered in my endeavours to form some
rational conjecture of what Mrs. Mainwaring can have told you to
occasion so extraordinary a change in your sentiments. Have I not
explained everything to you with respect to myself which could bear a
doubtful meaning, and which the ill-nature of the world had interpreted
to my discredit? What can you now have heard to stagger your esteem for
me? Have I ever had a concealment from you? Reginald, you agitate me
beyond expression, I cannot suppose that the old story of Mrs.
Mainwaring’s jealousy can be revived again, or at least be _listened_
to again. Come to me immediately, and explain what is at present
absolutely incomprehensible. Believe me, the single word of _Langford_
is not of such potent intelligence as to supersede the necessity of
more. If we _are_ to part, it will at least be handsome to take your
personal leave—but I have little heart to jest; in truth, I am serious
enough; for to be sunk, though but for an hour, in your esteem is a
humiliation to which I know not how to submit. I shall count every
minute till your arrival.