Sir Arthur saw my agitation; and, had I been desirous, it would have
been difficult to have concealed the letter, or its contents. I shewed
it him, and his perplexity and pain I believe exceeded mine. It was
impossible, he said, for him immediately to pay the money: it would
greatly distress him at any time. It likewise shewed the deplorable
state of my brother's affairs. The Edgemoor estate, every thing gone!
Sir Arthur knew not how to act. I was in a tremor, and could not
persuade myself there was any way so safe as that of consulting Frank
Henley. This I proposed; Sir Arthur instantly acquiesced, and he was
sent for down. After reading the letter, the only expedient, he said,
which he could think of, was to visit my brother; either accompanied by
or under the sanction of Sir Arthur. My father absolutely refused to go
himself; but he gave Frank full powers to act for him, and as he should
think most prudent. Before he went, he endeavoured to calm our fears;
saying he thought it impossible, if such a rascal as this gambler were
properly dealt with, but that he must be glad to renounce his claim.
Frank is now absent on this desperate business; sent, by my
officiousness, to encounter a practised ruffian!
What could I do? A brother threatening his own life! Yet what is the
life of such a brother, to that of Frank Henley?
I hope he is not in danger! I think I was obliged to do as I have done;
though indeed I am very ill satisfied with myself.
The chief purpose of my writing this long dialogue, which I had with
Sir Arthur, was to ward off fears: for surely it is but a folly to
anticipate misfortune. I should else not have written till tomorrow.
And must I alarm my friend, by sending this before I know the result of
so dangerous an affair? I think I ought not.
Clifton has just been with me. It could not long escape his quick
penetration that my thoughts were deeply occupied. He was earnest with
me to accompany him, in the evening, to see Garrick in Richard III, but
could not prevail. He taxed me with absence of mind, and was kindly
earnest to know why I was so serious. I told him at last it was a
family concern; and this did but increase his eagerness to know of what
nature. I was obliged to own he was too impetuous to be trusted at such
a critical minute. Frank Henley I hoped would effect every thing that
could be done.
He repeated, with great chagrin, 'Frank Henley!--He was sorry not to be
thought as worthy of a trust of danger, and as zealous for the honour
of the family, as even the favourite Frank Henley.'
I replied my mind was not enough at ease, to give a proper answer to
such a remark; which however was far from a just one.
He felt the rebuke, and apologized; with praises of Frank Henley's
prudence, and accusations of his own intemperate haste. 'But wise
people knew how to be cool. Prudence and wisdom were cold blooded
qualities. Good or harm, of any moment, if done by him, must be done in
a kind of passion. It was his temper, his nature, which he tried in
vain to correct. Neither was he quite certain that such a temper was
not the best: at least it was the most open and honest.--
I told him he was mistaken in most of these fancies: but he seemed not
to hear me, and went on--
'He could not but own, he was piqued, and almost grieved, to find he
must despair of meriting the preference; and that he was destined to
find a rival, where rivalship ought perhaps least to be expected.'
My temper of mind did not permit me to argue with him; I could much
rather have indulged the woman, and burst into tears; but I subdued my
feelings, and could think of no better mode of reproving him than to
retire. I accordingly withdrew, without answering, and left him making
ineffectual struggles with his pride, his consciousness of error, and
his desire of being heard, and reconciled to himself, and me.
He told me, yesterday, he was surprised at not receiving an answer from
Mrs. Clifton, and at the silence of Sir Arthur. I made no reply,
because I had not considered how I could address myself to him with the
best effect. But I mean, when he mentions it again, to inform him of
the probability of delay. I, like you, my friend, think delay rather a
fortunate incident than otherwise.
But why, Louisa, should you suppose it necessary to justify the conduct
of Mrs. Clifton to me? I am well acquainted with her virtues, and the
purity of her intentions. Whether I should act with exactly the same
caution, under the same circumstances, is more than I can say: but
neither can I say that my prudence, and foresight, would equal hers.--I
think I hear Frank Henley. I am all impatience and alarm. Adieu.