Letter cvij.
_Leonora to her mother._
Yarmouth.
Dearest Mother,
Excellent news for you to-day!--Mr L---- is pronounced out of danger. He
seems excessively touched by my coming here, and so grateful for the
little kindness I have been able to show him during his illness! But,
alas! that fatal promise! the recollection of it comes across my mind
like a spectre. Mr L---- has never touched upon this subject--I do all
in my power to divert his thoughts to indifferent objects.
This morning, when I went into his room, I found him tearing to pieces
that note which I mentioned to you a few days ago. He seemed much
agitated, and desired to see General B----. They are now together, and
were talking so loud in the next room to me, that I was obliged to
retire, lest I should overhear secrets. Mr L---- this moment sends for
me. If I should not have time to add more, this short letter will
satisfy you for to-day.
Leonora L----.
I open my letter to say, that I am not so happy as I was when I began
it. I have heard all the circumstances relative to this terrible affair.
Mr L---- will go to Russia. I am as far from happiness as ever.
Letter cviij.
_Olivia to Mr L----._
Richmond.
"Say, is not absence death to those that love?"
How just, how beautiful a sentiment! yet cold and callous is that heart
which knows not that there is a pang more dreadful than absence--far as
the death of lingering torture exceeds, in corporeal sufferance, the
soft slumber of expiring nature. Suspense! suspense! compared with thy
racking agony, even absence is but the blessed euthanasia of love.
My dearest L----, why this torturing silence? one line, one word, I
beseech you, from _your own hand_; say but _I live and love you, my
Olivia_. Hour after hour, and day after day, have I waited and waited,
and hoped, and feared to hear from you. O, this intolerable agonizing
suspense! Yet hope clings to my fond heart--hope! sweet treacherous
hope!
"Non so si la Speranza
Va con l'inganno unita;
So che mantiene in vita
Qualche infelici almen."
Olivia.
Letter cix.
_Mr L---- to Olivia._
Yarmouth.
My dear Olivia,
This is the first line I have written since my illness. I could not
sooner relieve you from suspense, for during most of this time I have
been delirious, and never till now able to write. My physicians have
this morning pronounced me out of danger; and as soon as my strength is
sufficient to bear the voyage, I shall sail, according to my promise.
Your prudence, or that of your physician, has saved me much
anxiety--perhaps saved my life: for had you been so rash as to come
hither, beside my fears for your safety, I should have been exposed, in
the moment of my returning reason, to a conflict of passions which I
could not have borne.
Leonora is with me; she arrived the night after I was taken ill, and
forced her way to me, when my fever was at the highest, and while I was
in a state of delirium.
Lady Leonora will stay with me till the moment I sail, which I expect to
do in about ten days. I cannot say positively, for I am still very weak,
and may not be able to keep my word to a day. Adieu. I hope your mind
will now be at ease. I am glad to hear from the surgeon that your wound
is quite closed. I will write again, and more fully, when I am better
able. Believe me, Olivia, I am most anxious to secure your happiness:
allow me to believe that this will be in the power of
Yours sincerely,
F. L----.
Letter cx.
_Olivia to Mr L----._
Richmond.
Barbarous man! with what cold cruelty you plunge a dagger into my heart!
Leonora is with you!--Leonora! Then I am undone. Yes, she will--she has
resumed all her power, her rights, her habitual empire over your heart.
Wretched Olivia!--But you say it is your wish to secure my happiness,
you bid me allow you to believe it is in your power. What phrases!--You
will sail, _according to your promise_.--Then nothing but your honour
binds you to Olivia. And even now, at this guilty instant, in your
secret soul, you wish, you expect from my offended pride, from my
disgusted delicacy, a renunciation of this promise, a release from all
the ties that bind you to me. You are right: this is what I ought to do;
what I would do, if love had not so weakened my soul, so prostrated my
spirit, rendered me so abject a creature, that _I cannot_ what _I
would_.
I must love on--female pride and resentment call upon me in vain. I
cannot hate you. Even by the feeble tie, which I see you long to break,
I must hold, rather than let you go for ever. I will not renounce your
promise. I claim it. I adjure you, by all which a man of honour holds
most sacred, to quit England the moment your health will allow you to
sail. No equivocating with your conscience!--I hold you to your word.
Oh, my dearest L----! to feel myself reduced to use such language to
you, to find myself clinging to that last resource of shipwrecked love,
_a promise_! It is with unspeakable agony I feel all this; lower I
cannot sink in misery. Raise me, if indeed you wish my happiness--raise
me! it is yet in your power. Tell me, that my too susceptible heart has
mistaken phantoms for realities--tell me, that your last was not colder
than usual; yes, I am ready to be deceived. Tell me that it was only the
languor of disease; assure me that my rival forced her way only to your
presence, that she has not won her easy way back to your heart--assure
me that you are impatient once more to see your own
Olivia.
Letter cxi.
_Leonora to her mother._
Yarmouth.
My dearest Mother,
Can you believe or imagine that I am actually unwilling to say or to
think that Mr L---- is quite well? yet this is the fact. Such is the
inconsistency and weakness of our natures--of my nature, I should say.
But a short time ago I thought that no evil could be so great as his
danger; now that danger is past, I dread to hear him say that he is
perfectly recovered. The moment he is able he goes to Russia; that is
decided irrevocably. The promise has been claimed and repeated. A solemn
promise cannot be broken for any human consideration. I should despise
him if he broke it; but can I love him for keeping it? His mind is at
this instant agitated as much as mine is--more it cannot. Yet I ought to
be better able to part with him now than when we parted before, because
I have now at least the consolation of knowing that he leaves me against
his will--that his heart will not go from me. This time I cannot be
deceived; I have had the most explicit assurances of his _undivided_
love. And indeed I was never deceived. All the appearances of regret at
parting with me were genuine. The general witnessed the consequent
struggle in Mr L----'s mind, and this fever followed.
I will endeavour to calm and content myself with the possession of his
love, and with the assurance that he will return to me as soon as
possible. As soon as possible! but what a vague hope! He sails with the
first fair wind. What a dreadful certainty! Perhaps to-morrow! Oh, my
dearest mother, perhaps to-night!
Leonora L----.
Letter cxij.
_General B---- to the Duchess of ----._
Yarmouth.
My dear Madam,
To-day Mr L----, finding himself sufficiently recovered, gave orders to
all his suite to embark, and the wind being fair, determined to go on
board immediately. In the midst of the bustle of the preparations for
his departure, Lady Leonora, exhausted by her former activity, and
unable to take any part in what was passing, sat silent, pale and
motionless, opposite to a window, which looked out upon the sea; the
vessel in which her husband was to sail lay in sight, and her eyes were
fixed upon the streamers, watching their motion in the wind.
Mr L---- was in his own apartment writing letters. An express arrived;
and among other letters for the English ambassador to Russia, there was
a large packet directed to Lady Leonora L----. Upon opening it the
crimson colour flew into her face, and she exclaimed, "Olivia's
letters!--Lady Olivia ----'s letters to Mad. de P----. Who could send
these to me?"
"I give you joy with all my heart!" cried I; "no matter how they
come--they come in the most fortunate moment possible. I would stake my
life upon it they will unmask Olivia at once. Where is Mr L----? He must
read them this moment."
I was hurrying out of the room to call my friend, but Lady Leonora
stopped my career, and checked the transport of my joy.
"You do not think, my dear general," said she, "that I would for any
consideration do so dishonourable an action as to read these letters?"
"Only let Mr L---- read them," interrupted I, "that is all I ask of your
ladyship. Give them to me. For the soul of me I can see nothing
dishonourable in this. Let Lady Olivia be judged by her own words. Your
ladyship shall not be troubled with her trash, but give the letters to
me, I beseech you."
"No, I cannot," said Lady Leonora steadily. "It is a great temptation;
but I ought not to yield." She deliberately folded them up in a blank
cover, directed them to Lady Olivia, and sealed them; whilst I, half in
admiration and half in anger, went on expostulating.
"Good God! this is being too generous! But, my dear Lady Leonora, why
will you sacrifice yourself? This is misplaced delicacy! Show those
letters, and I'll lay my life Mr L---- never goes to Russia."
"My dear friend," said she, looking up with tears in her eyes, "do not
tempt me beyond my power to resist. Say no more." At this instant Mr
L---- came into the room; and I am ashamed to confess to your grace, I
really was so little master of myself, that I was upon the point of
seizing Olivia's letters, and putting them into his hands. "L----," said
I, "here is your admirable wife absurdly, yes, I must say it, absurdly
standing upon a point of honour with one who has none! That packet which
she has before her----"
Lady Leonora imposed silence upon me by one of those looks which no man
can resist.
"My dear Leonora, you are right," said Mr L----; "and you are almost
right, my dear general: I know what that packet contains; and without
doing anything dishonourable, I hold myself absolved from my promise; I
shall not go to Russia, my dearest wife!" He flew into her arms--and I
left them. I question whether they either of them felt much more than I
did.
For some minutes I was content with knowing that these things had really
happened, that I had heard Mr L---- say he was absolved from all
promises, and that he would not go to Russia; but how did all this
happen so suddenly?--How did he know the contents of Olivia's letters,
and without doing anything dishonourable? There are some people who
cannot be perfectly happy till they know the _rationale_ of their
happiness. I am one of these. I did not feel "a sober certainty of
waking bliss," till I read a letter which Mr L----received by the same
express that brought Olivia's letters, and which he read while we were
debating. I beg your grace's pardon if I am too minute in explanation;
but I do as I would be done by. The letter was from one of the private
secretaries, who is, I understand, a relation and friend of Lady Leonora
L----. As the original goes this night to Lady Olivia, I send your grace
a copy. You will give me credit for copying, and at such a time as this!
I congratulate your grace, and
I have the honour to be, &c.,
J. B.
Letter cxiij.
_To Mr L----._
[Private.]
London, St James's-street.
My dear Sir,
In the same moment you receive this, your lady, for whom I have the
highest regard, will receive from me a valuable present, a packet of
Lady Olivia ----'s letters to one of her French friends. These letters
were lately found in a French frigate, taken by one of our cruisers;
and, as _intercepted correspondence_ is the order of the day, these,
with all the despatches on board, were transmitted to our office to be
examined, in hopes of making reprisals of state secrets. Some letters
about the court and Emperor of Russia led us to suppose that we should
find some political manoeuvres, and we examined farther. The examination
fortunately fell to my lot, as private secretary. After looking them all
over, however, I found that these papers contain only family secrets: I
obtained permission to send them to Lady Leonora L----, to ensure the
triumph of virtue over vice--to put it into her ladyship's power
completely to unmask her unworthy rival. These letters will show you by
what arts you have been deceived. You will find yourself ridiculed as _a
cold awkward Englishman_; one who will _hottentot again, whatever pains
may be taken to civilise him; a man of ice_, to be taken as a lover from
_pure charity_, or _pure curiosity_, or the pure _besoin d'aimer_. Here
are many pure motives, of which you will, my dear sir, take your choice.
You will farther observe in one of her letters, that Lady Olivia
premeditated the design of prevailing with you to carry her to Russia,
that she might show her power _to that proudest of earthly prudes_, the
Duchess of ***, and that she might _gratify her great revenge against
Lady Leonora L----_.
Sincerely hoping, my dear sir, that these letters may open your eyes,
and restore you and my amiable relation to domestic happiness, I make no
apology for the liberty I take, and cannot regret the momentary pain I
may inflict. You are at liberty to make what use you think proper of
this letter.
I have it in command from my Lord ---- to add, that if your health, or
any other circumstances, should render this embassy to Russia less
desirable to you than it appeared some time ago, other arrangements can
be made, and another friend of Government is ready to supply your place.
I am, my dear sir,
Yours, &c.
* * * * *
_To F. L----, Esq., &c._
Letter cxiv.
_From Lady Leonora L---- to the Duchess of ----._
Yarmouth.
Joy, dearest mother! Come and share your daughter's happiness!
_Continued by General B----._
* * * * *
Lady Olivia, thus unmasked by her own hand, has fled to the Continent,
declaring that she will never more return to England. There she is
right--England is not a country fit for such women.--But I will never
waste another word or thought upon her.
Mr L--- has given up the Russian embassy, and returns with Lady Leonora
to L---- Castle to-morrow. He has invited me to accompany them. Lady
Leonora is now the happiest of wives, and your grace the happiest of
mothers.
I have the honour and the pleasure to be
Your grace's sincerely attached,
J. B.
Letter cxv.
_The Duchess of ---- to Lady Leonora L----._
My beloved daughter, pride and delight of your happy mother's heart, I
give you joy! Your temper, fortitude, and persevering affection, have
now their just reward. Enjoy your happiness, heightened as it must be by
the sense of self-approbation, and the sympathy of all who know you. And
now let me indulge the vanity of a mother; let me exult in the
accomplishment of my prophecies, and let me be listened to with due
humility, when I prophesy again. With as much certainty as I foretold
what is now present, I foresee, my child, your future destiny, and I
predict that you will preserve while you live your husband's fondest
affections. Your prudence will prevent you from indulging too far your
taste for retirement, or for the exclusive society of your intimate
friends. Spend your winters in London: your rank, your fortune, and I
may be permitted to add, your character, manners, and abilities, give
you the power of drawing round you persons of the best information and
of the highest talents. Your husband will find, in such society,
everything that can attach him to his home; and in you his most rational
friend and his most charming companion, who will excite him to every
generous and noble exertion.
For the good and wise there is in love a power unknown to the ignorant
and the vicious, a power of communicating fresh energy to all the
faculties of the soul, of exalting them to the highest state of
perfection. The friendship which in later life succeeds to such love is
perhaps the greatest, and certainly the most permanent blessing of life.
An admirable German writer--you see, my dear, that I have no prejudices
against good German writers--an admirable German writer says, that "Love
is like the morning shadows, which diminish as the day advances; but
friendship is like the shadows of the evening, which increase even till
the setting of the sun."