A man, whom a letter from Mr. —— previously announced, called here
yesterday for the payment of a draft; and he seemed disappointed at not
finding you at home. I sent him to Mr. —— I have since seen him, and he
tells me that he has settled the business.
So much for business!—may I venture to talk a little longer about less
weighty affairs?—How are you?—I have been following you all along the
road this comfortless weather; for, when I am absent from those I love,
my imagination is as lively, as if my senses had never been gratified by
their presence—I was going to say caresses—and why should I not? I have
found out that I have more than you, in one respect; because I can,
without any violent effort of reason, find food for love in the same
object, much longer than you can.—The way to my senses is through my
heart; but, forgive me! I think there is sometimes a shorter cut to
yours.
With ninety-nine men out of a hundred, a very sufficient dash of folly
is necessary to render a woman _piquante_, a soft word for desirable;
and, beyond these casual ebullitions of sympathy, few look for enjoyment
by fostering a passion in their hearts. One reason, in short, why I wish
my whole sex to become wiser, is, that the foolish ones may not, by
their pretty folly, rob those whose sensibility keeps down their vanity,
of the few roses that afford them solace in the thorny road of life.
I do not know how I fell into these reflections, excepting one thought
produced it—that these continual separations were necessary to warm your
affection.—Of late, we are always separating.—Crack!—crack!—and away you
go.—This joke wears the sallow cast of thought; for, though I began to
write cheerfully, some melancholy tears have found their way into my
eyes, that linger there, whilst a glow of tenderness at my heart
whispers that you are one of the best creatures in the world.—Pardon
then the vagaries of a mind, that has been almost “crazed by care” as
well as “crossed in hapless love,” and bear with me a _little_
longer!—When we are settled in the country together, more duties will
open before me, and my heart, which now, trembling into peace, is
agitated by every emotion that awaken the remembrance of old griefs,
will learn to rest on yours, with that dignity your character, not to
talk of my own, demands.
Take care of yourself—and write soon to your own girl (you may add dear,
if you please) who sincerely loves you, and will try to convince you of
it, by becoming happier
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