EVELINA TO THE REV. MR. VILLARS Howard Grove, May 6.
THE die is thrown, and I attend the event in trembling! Lady Howard
has written to Paris, and sent her letter to town, to be forwarded in
the ambassador's packet; and, in less than a fortnight, therefore, she
expects an answer. O, Sir, with what anxious impatience shall I wait
its arrival! upon it seems to depend the fate of my future life. My
solicitude is so great, and my suspense so painful, that I cannot
rest a moment in peace, or turn my thoughts into any other channel.
Deeply interested as I now am in the event, most sincerely do I
regret that the plan was ever proposed. Methinks it cannot end to
my satisfaction: for either I must be torn from the arms of my more
than father,-or I must have the misery of being finally convinced,
that I am cruelly rejected by him who has the natural claim to that
dear title, which to write, mention, or think of, fills my whole soul
with filial tenderness.
The subject is discussed here eternally. Captain Mirvan and Madame
Duval, as usual, quarrel whenever it is started: but I am so wholly
engrossed by my own reflections, that I cannot even listen to them. My
imagination changes the scene perpetually: one moment, I am embraced
by a kind and relenting parent, who takes me to that heart from
which I have hitherto been banished, and supplicates, through me,
peace and forgiveness from the ashes of my mother!-at another, he
regards me with detestation, considers me as the living image of an
injured saint, and repulses me with horror!-But I will not afflict
you with the melancholy phantasms of my brain; I will endeavour to
compose my mind to a more tranquil state, and forbear to write again
till I have in some measure succeeded.
May Heaven bless you, my dearest Sir! and long, long may it continue
you on earth, to bless Your grateful EVELINA