EVELINA TO THE REV. MR. VILLARS Howard Grove, March 26.
THIS house seems to be the house of joy; every face wears a smile,
and a laugh is at every body's service. It is quite amusing to walk
about and see the general confusion; a room leading to the garden
is fitting up for Captain Mirvan's study. Lady Howard does not sit a
moment in a place; Miss Mirvan is making caps; every body so busy!-such
flying from room to room!-so many orders given, and retracted, and
given again! nothing but hurry and perturbation.
Well but, my dear Sir, I am desired to make a request to you. I hope
you will not think me an encroacher; Lady Howard insists upon my
writing!-yet I hardly know how to go on; a petition implies a want
and have you left me one? No, indeed.
I am half ashamed of myself for beginning this letter. But these dear
ladies are so pressing-I cannot, for my life, resist wishing for the
pleasures they offer me,-provided you do not disapprove them.
They are to make a very short stay in town. The Captain will meet them
in a day or two. Mrs. Mirvan and her sweet daughter both go; what a
happy party! Yet, I am not very eager to accompany them: at least
I shall be contented to remain where I am, if you desire that I should.
Assured, my dearest Sir, of your goodness, your bounty, and your
indulgent kindness, ought I to form a wish that has not your
sanction? Decide for me, therefore, without the least apprehension
that I shall be uneasy or discontented. While I am yet in suspense,
perhaps I may hope; but I am most certain that when you have once
determined I shall not repine.
They tell me that London is now in full splendour. Two playhouses
are open,-the Opera-house,-Ranelagh,-and the Pantheon.-You see I have
learned all their names. However, pray don't suppose that I make any
point of going, for I shall hardly sigh, to see them depart without me,
though I shall probably never meet with such another opportunity. And,
indeed, their domestic happiness will be so great,-it is natural to
wish to partake of it.
I believe I am bewitched! I made a resolution, when I began, that
I would not be urgent; but my pen-or rather my thoughts, will not
suffer me to keep it-for I acknowledge, I must acknowledge, I cannot
help wishing for your permission.
I almost repent already that I have made this confession; pray forget
that you have read it, if this journey is displeasing to you. But
I will not write any longer; for the more I think of this affair,
the less indifferent to it I find myself.
Adieu, my most honoured, most reverenced, most beloved father! for
by what other name can I call you? I have no happiness or sorrow,
no hope or fear, but what your kindness bestows, or your displeasure
may cause. You will not, I am sure, send a refusal without reasons
unanswerable, and therefore I shall cheerfully acquiesce. Yet I
hope-I hope you will be able to permit me to go! I am, with the
utmost affection, gratitude, and duty, your EVELINA -