MISS BYRON, TO MISS SELBY
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 19.
I shall dispatch this by your Gibson early in the morning. It was kind
in you to bid him call, in his way down; for now I shall be almost sure
of meeting (if not my uncle) your brother, and who knows, but my Lucy
herself, at Dunstable? Where, barring accidents, I shall be on Friday
night.
You will see some of the worthiest people in the world, my dear, if you
come, all prepared to love you: but let not any body be put to
inconvenience to meet me at Dunstable. My noble friends here will
proceed with me to Stratford, or even to Northampton, they say; but they
will see me safe in the protection of somebody I love, and whom they must
love for my sake.
I don't wonder that Sir Charles Grandison loves Mr. Beauchamp: he is a
very worthy and sensible man. He, as every body else, idolizes Sir
Charles. It is some pleasure to me, Lucy, that I stand high in his
esteem. To be respected by the worthy, is one of the greatest felicities
in this life; since it is to be ranked as one of them. Sir Harry and his
lady are come to town. All, it seems, is harmony in that family. They
cannot bear Mr. Beauchamp's absence from them for three days together.
All the neighbouring gentlemen are in love with him. His manners are so
gentle; his temper so even; so desirous to oblige; so genteel in his
person; so pleasing in his address; he must undoubtedly make a good woman
very happy.
But Emily, poor girl! sees only Sir Charles Grandison with eyes of love.
Mr. Beauchamp is, however, greatly pleased with Emily. He told Lady G----
that he thought her a fine young creature; and that her mind was still
more amiable than her person. But his behaviour to her is extremely
prudent. He says finer things of her, than to her: yet surely I am
mistaken if he meditates not in her his future wife.
Mr. Beauchamp will be one of my escort.
Emily, at her own request, is to go to Colnebrook with Lady L---- after I
am gone.
Mr. Reeves will ride. Lord L---- and Lord G---- will also oblige me with
their company on horseback.
Mrs. Reeves is forbidden to venture; but Lady L---- and Lady G---- will
not be denied coming with me.
I shall take leave of Lady Olivia and Lady Maffei to-morrow morning; when
they will set out for their projected tour. To-morrow we and the whole
Grandison family are to dine together at Lord L----'s, for the last time.
It will be a mournful dining-time, on that account.
Lady Betty Williams, her daughter, and Miss Clements, supped with us this
night, and took leave of me in the tenderest manner. They greatly regret
my going down so soon, as they call it.
As to the public diversions, which they wish me to stay and give into, to
be sure I should have been glad to have been better qualified to have
entertained you with the performances of this or that actor, this or that
musician, and the like: but, frightened by the vile plot upon me at a
masquerade, I was thrown out of that course of diversion, and indeed into
more affecting, more interesting engagements; into the knowledge of a
family that had no need to look out of itself for entertainments: and,
besides, are not all the company we see, as visiters or guests, full of
these things? I have seen the principal performers, in every way, often
enough to give me a notion of their performances, though I have not
troubled you with such common things as revolve every season.
You know I am far from slighting the innocent pleasures in which others
delight--It would have been happier for me, perhaps, had I had more
leisure to attend those amusements, than I have found. Yet I am not
sure, neither: for methinks, with all the pangs that my suspenses have
cost me, I would not but have known Sir Charles Grandison, his sisters,
his Emily, and Dr. Bartlett.
I could only have wished to have been spared Sir Hargrave Pollexfen's
vile attempt: then, if I had come acquainted with this family, it would
have been as I came acquainted with others: my gratitude had not been
engaged so deeply.
Well--But what signify if's?--What has been, has; what must be, must.
Only love me, my dear friends, as you used to love me. If I was a good
girl when I left you, I hope I am not a bad one now, that I am returning
to you. My morals, I bless God, are unhurt: my heart is not corrupted by
the vanities of the great town: I have a little more experience than I
had: and if I have severely paid for it, it is not at the price of my
reputation. And I hope, if nobody has benefited by me, since I have been
in town, that no one has suffered by me. Poor Mr. Fowler!--I could not
help it, you know. Had I, by little snares, follies, coquetries, sought
to draw him on, and entangle him, his future welfare would, with reason,
be more the subject of my solicitude, than it is now necessary it should
be; though, indeed, I cannot help making it a good deal so.
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