MISS BYRON, TO LADY G----
SELBY-HOUSE, MONDAY, APRIL 24.
Though the kind friends with whom I parted at Dunstable were pleased, one
and all, to allow that the correspondence which is to pass between my
dear Lady G---- and their Harriet, should answer the just expectations of
each upon her, in the writing way; and though (at your motion, remember,
not at mine) they promised to be contented with hearing read to them such
parts of my letters as you should think proper to communicate; yet cannot
I dispense with my duty to Lady L----, my Emily, my cousin Reeves, and
Dr. Bartlett. Accordingly, I write to them by this post; and I charge
you, my dear, with my sincere and thankful compliments to your lord, and
to Mr. Beauchamp, for their favours.
What an agreeable night, in the main, was Friday night! Had we not been
to separate next morning, it would have been an agreeable one indeed!
Is not my aunt Selby an excellent woman? But you all admired her. She
admires you all. I will tell you, another time, what she said of you, my
dear, in particular.
My cousin Lucy, too--is she not an amiable creature? Indeed you all were
delighted with her. But I take pleasure in recollecting your
approbations of one I so dearly love. She is as prudent as Lady L----
and now our Nancy is so well recovered, as cheerful as Lady G----. You
said you would provide a good husband for her: don't forget. The man,
whoever he be, cannot be too good for my Lucy. Nancy is such another
good girl: but so I told you.
Well, and pray, did you ever meet with so pleasant a man as my uncle
Selby? What should we have done, when we talked of your brother, when we
talked of our parting, had it not been for him? You looked upon me every
now and then, when he returned your smartness upon him, as if you thought
I had let him know some of your perversenesses to Lord G----. And do you
think I did not? Indeed I did. Can you imagine that your frank-hearted
Harriet, who hides not from her friends her own faults, should conceal
yours?--But what a particular character is yours! Every body blames you,
that knows of your over-livelinesses; yet every body loves you--I think,
for your very faults. Had it not been so, do you imagine I could ever
have loved you, after you had led Lady L---- to join with you, on a
certain teasing occasion?--My uncle dotes upon you!
But don't tell Emily that my cousin James Selby is in love with her.
That he may not, on the score of the dear girl's fortune, be thought
presumptuous, let me tell you, that he is almost of age; and, when he is,
comes into possession of a handsome estate. He has many good qualities.
I have, in short, a very great value for him; but not enough, though he
is my relation, to wish him my still more beloved Emily. Dear creature!
Methinks I still feel her parting tears on my cheek!
You charge me to be as minute, in the letters I write to you, as I used
to be to my friends here: and you promise to be as circumstantial in
yours. I will set you the example: do you be sure to follow it.
We baited at Stoney Stratford. I was afraid how it would be: there were
the two bold creatures, Mr. Greville, and Mr. Fenwick, ready to receive
us. A handsome collation, as at our setting out, so now, bespoke by
them, was set on the table. How they came by their intelligence, nobody
knows: we were all concerned to see them. They seemed half-mad for joy.
My cousin James had alighted to hand us out; but Mr. Greville was so
earnest to offer his hand, that though my cousin was equally ready, I
thought I could not deny to his solicitude for the poor favour, such a
mark of civility. Besides, if I had, it would have been distinguishing
him for more than a common neighbour, you know. Mr. Fenwick took the
other hand, when I had stept out of the coach, and then (with so much
pride, as made me ashamed of myself) they hurried me between them,
through the inn yard, and into the room they had engaged for us; blessing
themselves, all the way, for my coming down Harriet Byron.
I looked about, as if for the dear friends I had parted with at
Dunstable. This is not, thought I, so delightful an inn as they made
that--Now they, thought I, are pursuing their road to London, as we are
ours to Northampton. But ah! where, where is Sir Charles Grandison at
this time? And I sighed! But don't read this, and such strokes as this,
to any body but Lord and Lady L----. You won't, you say--Thank you,
Charlotte.--I will call you Charlotte, when I think of it, as you
commanded me. The joy we had at Dunstable, was easy, serene, deep, full,
as I may say; it was the joy of sensible people: but the joy here was
made by the two gentlemen, mad, loud, and even noisy. They hardly were
able to contain themselves; and my uncle, and cousin James, were forced
to be loud, to be heard.
Mr. Orme, good Mr. Orme, when we came near his park, was on the highway
side, perhaps near the very spot where he stood to see me pass to London
so many weeks ago--Poor man!--When I first saw him, (which was before the
coach came near, for I looked out only, as thinking I would mark the
place where I last beheld him,) he looked with so disconsolate an air,
and so fixed, that I compassionately said to myself, Surely the worthy
man has not been there ever since!
I twitched the string just in time: the coach stopt. Mr. Orme, said I,
how do you? Well, I hope?--How does Miss Orme?
I had my hand on the coach-door. He snatched it. It was not an
unwilling hand. He pressed it with his lips. God be praised, said he,
(with a countenance, O how altered for the better!) for permitting me
once more to behold that face--that angelic face, he said.
God bless you, Mr. Orme! said I: I am glad to see you. Adieu.
The coach drove on. Poor Mr. Orme! said my aunt.
Mr. Orme, Lucy, said I, don't look so ill as you wrote he was.
His joy to see you, said she--But Mr. Orme is in a declining way.
Mr. Greville, on the coach stopping, rode back just as it was going on
again--And with a loud laugh--How the d----l came Orme to know of your
coming, madam!--Poor fellow! It was very kind of you to stop your coach
to speak to the statue. And he laughed again.--Nonsensical! At what?
My grandmamma Shirley, dearest of parents! her youth, as she was pleased
to say, renewed by the expectation of so soon seeing her darling child,
came (as my aunt told us, you know) on Thursday night to Selby-house, to
charge her and Lucy with her blessing to me; and resolving to stay there
to receive me. Our beloved Nancy was also to be there; so were two other
cousins, Kitty and Patty Holles, good young creatures; who, in my
absence, had attended my grandmamma at every convenient opportunity, and
whom I also found here.
When we came within sight of this house, Now, Harriet, said Lucy, I see
the same kind of emotions beginning to arise in your face and bosom, as
Lady G---- told us you shewed when you first saw your aunt at Dunstable.
My grandmamma! said I, I am in sight of the dear house that holds her: I
hope she is here. But I will not surprise her with my joy to see her.
Lie still, throbbing impatient heart.
But when the coach set us down at the inner gate, there, in the
outward-hall, sat my blessed grandmamma. The moment I beheld her, my
intended caution forsook me: I sprang by my aunt, and, before the
foot-step could be put down, flew, as it were, out of the coach, and
threw myself at her feet, wrapping my arms about her: Bless, bless, said
I, your Harriet! I could not, at the moment, say another word.
Great God! said the pious parent, her hands and eyes lifted up, Great
God! I thank thee! Then folding her arms about my neck, she kissed my
forehead, my cheek, my lips--God bless my love! Pride of my life! the
most precious of a hundred daughters! How does my child--my Harriet--O
my love!--After such dangers, such trials, such harassings--Once more,
God be praised that I clasp to my fond heart, my Harriet!
Separate them, separate them, said my facetious uncle, (yet he had tears
in his eyes,) before they grow together!--Madam, to my grandmamma, she is
our Harriet, as well as yours: let us welcome the saucy girl, on her
re-entrance into these doors!--Saucy, I suppose, I shall soon find her.
My grandmamma withdrew her fond arms: Take her, take her, said she, each
in turn: but I think I never can part with her again.
My uncle saluted me, and bid me very kindly welcome home--so did every
one.
How can I return the obligations which the love of all my friends lays
upon me? To be good, to be grateful, is not enough; since that one ought
to be for one's own sake. Yet how can I be even grateful to them with
half a heart? Ah, Lady G----, you bid me be free in my confessions. You
promise to look my letters over before you read them to any body; and to
mark passages proper to be kept to yourself--Pray do.
Mr. Greville and Mr. Fenwick were here separately, an hour ago: I thanked
them for their civility on the road, and not ungraciously, as Mr.
Greville told my uncle, as to him. He was not, he said, without hopes,
yet; since I knew not how to be ungrateful. Mr. Greville builds, as he
always did, a merit on his civility; and by that means sinks, in the
narrower lover, the claim he might otherwise make to the title of the
generous neighbour.
***
Miss Orme has just been here. She could not help throwing in a word for
her brother.
You will guess, my dear Lady G----, at the subject of our conversations
here, and what they will be, morning, noon, and night, for a week to
come. My grandmamma is better in health than I have known her for a year
or two past. The health of people in years can mend but slowly; and they
are slow to acknowledge it in their own favour. My grandmamma, however,
allows that she is better within these few days past; but attributes the
amendment to her Harriet's return.
How do they all bless, revere, extol, your noble brother!--How do they
wish--And how do they regret--you know what--Yet how ready are they to
applaud your Harriet, if she can hold her magnanimity, in preferring the
happiness of Clementina to her own!--My grandmamma and aunt are of
opinion, that I should; and they praise me for the generosity of my
effort, whether the superior merits of the man will or will not allow me
to succeed in it. But my uncle, my Lucy, and my Nancy, from their
unbounded love of me, think a little, and but a little, narrower; and,
believing it will go hard with me, say, It is hard. My uncle, in
particular, says, The very pretension is flight and nonsense: but,
however, if the girl, added he, can parade away her passion for an object
so worthy, with all my heart: it will be but just, that the romancing
elevations, which so often drive headstrong girls into difficulties,
should now and then help a more discreet one out of them.
Adieu, my beloved Lady G----! Repeated compliments, love, thanks, to my
Lord and Lady L----, to my Emily, to Dr. Bartlett, to Mr. Beauchamp, and
particularly to my Lord G----. Dear, dear Charlotte, be good! Let me
beseech you be good! If you are not, you will have every one of my
friends who met you at Dunstable, and, from their report, my grandmamma
and Nancy, against you; for they find but one fault in my lord: it is,
that he seems too fond of a lady, who, by her archness of looks, and
half-saucy turns upon him, even before them, evidently shewed--Shall I
say what? But I stand up for you, my dear. Your gratitude, your
generosity, your honour, I say, (and why should I not add your duty?)
will certainly make you one of the most obliging of wives, to the most
affectionate of husbands.
My uncle says he hopes so: but though he adores you for a friend, and the
companion of a lively hour; yet he does not know but his dame Selby is
still the woman whom a man should prefer for a wife: and she, said he, is
full as saucy as a wife need to be; though I think, Harriet, that she has
not been the less dutiful of late for your absence.