_Frank Henley to Oliver Trenchard_
_Paris, Hotel d'Espagne, rue Guenegaude_,
_Fauxbourg St. Germain_
The black forebodings of my mind, Oliver, are fulfilled! I have been
struck! The phantom I dreaded has appeared, has flashed upon me, and
all the evils of which I prophesied, and more than all, are collecting
to overwhelm me; are rushing to my ruin!
This brother of Louisa! Nothing surely was ever so unaccountable! The
very same whom I prevented from fighting, in the _Champs Elysées!_ Ay,
he! This identical Clifton, for Clifton it was, has again appeared; has
been here, is here, is never hence. His aspect was petrifying! He came
upon me this second time in the strangest, the most insolent manner
imaginable; just as I had sent away my last letter to thee; when I was
sitting the guardian of a treasure, which my fond false reveries were
at that moment flattering me might one day be mine! Starting at the
sight of me! Nothing kind, nothing conciliating in his address; it was
all imperious demand. Who was I? By what right did I deny admission to
the young lady's woman, to inform her he was come to pay her his
respects? He!--Having a letter from Sir Arthur, inviting him
thither!--Were such orders to be countermanded by me? Again and again,
who was I?--Oliver, he is a haughty youth; violent, headstrong, and
arrogant! Believe me he will be found so.
What do I mean? Why do I dread him? How! The slave of fear? Why is my
heart so inclined to think ill of him? Do I seek to depreciate? She has
mentioned him several times; has expected, with a kind of eagerness, he
would resemble her Louisa; has hoped he and I should be friends. 'Did
not I hope the same?' Oliver, she has tortured me! All benevolence as
she is, she has put me on the rack!
I must not yield thus to passion; it is criminal. I have too much
indulged the flattering dreams of desire. Yet what to do?--How to
act?--Must I tamely quit the field the moment an adversary appears;
turn recreant to myself, and coward-like give up my claims, without
daring to say such and such they are? No. Justice is due as much to
myself as to any other. If he be truly deserving of preference, why let
him be preferred. I will rejoice.--Yes, Oliver, mill.--He who is the
slave of passion, is unworthy a place in the noble mind of Anna.
But this man is not my superior: I feel, Oliver, he is not; and it
becomes me to assert my rights. Nay, his pride acts as a
provocative--Oliver, I perceive how wrong this is; but I will not blot
out the line. Let it remain as a memento. He that would correct his
failings must be willing to detect them.
The anxiety of my mind is excessive; and the pain which a conviction of
the weakness and error that this anxiety occasions renders it still
more insupportable. I must take myself to task; ay and severely. I must
enquire into the wrong and the right, and reason must be absolute. Tell
me thy thoughts, plainly and honestly; be sure thou dost; for I
sometimes suspect thee of too much kindness, of partiality to thy
friend. Chastise the derelictions of my heart, whenever thou perceivest
them; or I myself shall hereafter become thy accuser. I am
dissatisfied, Oliver: what surer token can there be that I am wrong? I
weary thee--Prithee forgive, but do not forget to aid me.