_Anna Wenbourne St. Ives to Louisa Clifton_
_Chateau de Villebrun_
In compliance with the very warm entreaties of our kind French friends,
we have been hurried away from the metropolis sooner than was intended.
We are at present in the country, at the Chateau de Villebrun; where,
if we are not merry, it is not for the want of laughing. Our feet and
our tongues are never still. We dance, talk, sing, ride, sail, or
rather paddle about in a small but romantic lake; in short we are never
out of exercise.
Clifton is as active as the best, and is very expert in all feats of
agility. With the French he seems to dance for the honour of his
nation; and, with me, from a desire to prove that the man who makes
pretensions to me, which he now does openly enough, is capable of every
excellence.
You know, Louisa, how much I despise the affectation of reserve; but he
is so enterprising a youth that I am sometimes obliged, though very
unwillingly, to exert a little mild authority.
The French, old or young, ugly or handsome, all are lovers; and are as
liberal of their amorous sighs, and addresses, as if each were an
Adonis. Clifton is well acquainted with foreign manners, or I can
perceive their gallantry to me would make him half mad. As it is, he
has been little less than rude, to one or two of the most forward of my
pretended admirers.
I speak in the plural, as if we were rather in town than at a country
seat; and so we appear to be. The French nobility do not seem to have
any taste for solitude. Their love of variety induces them to change
the scene; but the same tumult of guests and visitors, coming and
going, is every where their delight. Whatever can attract company they
seek with avidity. I am dear to them, because I am an English beauty,
as they tell me, and all the world is desirous of paying its court to
me.
Clifton has equal or perhaps greater merits of the same kind. And I
assure you, Louisa, the women here can pay their court more artfully
and almost as openly as the men.
Frank is idolized by them, because he reads Shakespeare. You would
wonder to hear the praises they bestow upon him, and which indeed he
richly deserves, though not one in ten of them understands a word he
says. _C'est beau! C'est magnifique! C'est superbe! C'est sublime!_
Such is their continual round of good-natured superlatives, which they
apply on all occasions, with a sincere desire To make others as happy
as they endeavour to persuade themselves to be. Frank treats their
gallantry with a kind of silent contempt, otherwise he would be a much
greater favourite.
Perhaps you will be surprised to find me still guilty of
procrastination, and to hear me describing French manners, instead of
the mode in which I addressed a youth whom I have accused myself of
having, in a certain sense, misled, and kept in suspense. I can only
answer that my intentions have been frustrated; chiefly indeed by this
country excursion, though in part by other accidents. My mind has not
indulged itself in indolence; it could not; it is too deeply
interested. But, the more I have thought, the more have I been
confirmed in my former opinion. This is the hour of trial: this is the
time to prove I have some real claims to that superiority which I have
been so ready to flatter myself I possess. Were there nothing to
regret, nay were there not something to suffer, where would be the
merit of victory?--But, on the other hand, how much is there to
gain!--A mind of the first order to be retrieved!--A Clifton!--A
brother of Louisa!
This appears to be a serious crisis. Again I must repeat how much I am
afraid of being hurried forward too fast. An error at this moment might
be fatal. Clifton is so much alarmed by the particular respect which
the Count de Beaunoir [A pleasant kind of madman, who is a visitant
here.] pays me, that he has this instant been with me, confessed a
passion for me, in all the strong and perhaps extravagant language
which custom has seemed to authorise, and has entreated, with a degree
of warmth and earnestness that could scarcely be resisted, my
permission to mention the matter immediately to Sir Arthur.
It became me to speak without disguise. I told him I was far from
insensible of his merits; that a union with the brother of my Louisa,
if propriety, duty, and affection should happen to combine, would be
the first wish of my heart; that I should consider any affectation and
coyness as criminal; but that I was not entirely free from doubt; and,
before I could agree to the proposal being made to Sir Arthur, I
thought it necessary we should mutually compare our thoughts, and
scrutinize as it were each other to the very soul; that we might not
act rashly, in the most serious of all the private events of life.--You
know my heart, Louisa; at least as well as I myself know it; and I am
fearful of being precipitate.
He seemed rather disappointed, and was impatient to begin the
conversation I wished for immediately.
I told him I was unprepared; my thoughts were not sufficiently
collected; and that the hurry in which we at present exist would
scarcely allow me time to perform so necessary a duty. But, that I
might avoid the least suspicion of coquetry, if it were his desire, I
would shut myself up for a day from company, and examine whether there
were any real impediments; that I would ask myself what my hopes and
expectations were; and that I requested, or indeed expected that he
should do the same. I added however that, if he pleased, it would be
much more agreeable to me to defer this serious task, at least till we
should return to Paris.
He repeated my words, if it would be much more agreeable to me,
impatient and uneasy though he owned he was, he must submit.
I answered I required no submission, except to reason; to which I hoped
both he and I should always be subject.
Love, he replied, was so disdainful of restraint that it would not
acknowledge the control of reason itself. However, by representing to
him how particular our mutual absence from the company would seem,
unless we could condescend to tell some falsehood, which I would not I
said suppose possible to either of us, I prevailed on him to subscribe
to this short delay.
His passions and feelings are strong. One minute he seemed affected by
the approbation which, as far as I could with truth, I did not scruple
to bestow on his many superior gifts; and the next to conceive some
chagrin that I should for a moment hesitate. The noblest natures,
Louisa, are the most subject to pride, can the least endure neglect,
and are aptest to construe whatever is not directly affirmative in
their favour into injustice.
With respect to the Count de Beaunoir, he has been more passionate, in
expressing how much he admires me, than my reserve to him can have
authorised; except so far as he follows the manners of his country, and
the impulse of his peculiar character. I suppose he means little;
though he has said much. Not that I am certain. He may be more in
earnest than I desire; but I hope he is not; because, if I am to be
your sister as well as your friend, I should be sorry that any thing
should excite a shadow of doubt in the mind of Clifton.
The Count is one of the Provencal nobility; a whimsical creature, with
an imagination amazingly rapid, but extravagant. Your brother calls him
Count Shatter-brain; and I tell him that he forgets he has some claim
to the title himself. The Count has read the old Provençal poets, and
romance writers, till he has made himself a kind of Don Quixote; except
that he has none of the Don's delightful systematic gravity. The Count
on the contrary amuses by his want of system, and his quick, changeable
incongruity. He is in raptures one moment with what he laughs at the
next. Were it not for the mad follies of jealousy, against which we
cannot be too guarded, the manner in which he addresses, or in his own
language adores me, would be pleasant. If I wished to pass my life in
laughing, I would certainly marry the Count.