_Anna Wenbourne St. Ives to Louisa Clifton_
_London, Grosvenor Street_
I have had a scene with Frank, which affected me much, and which has
occasioned another quarrel, or kind of a quarrel, with Clifton. Sir
Arthur had just left the room. He had been asking Frank whether there
were any possible way by which he could serve him. We all were his
debtors; very deeply; and he should be happy to find any mode of
discharging the obligation. Sir Arthur spoke with an earnestness which,
in him, is by no means customary. But Frank had nothing to ask, nothing
to propose.
I was sitting at my harpsichord, amusing myself; and, Sir Arthur being
gone, stopped to tell Frank how sincerely I joined in Sir Arthur's
feelings.
I have nothing, madam, said he, to hope from Sir Arthur: but to you I
have a request to make, which you would greatly oblige me should you
grant--
I trembled, Louisa. I was afraid of some new contest of the passions; a
revival of ideas which I myself had so lately, and so inadvertently,
called to mind. I am persuaded the blood forsook my cheeks, when I
asked him what it was: for Frank, with a tenderness in his voice that
was indeed honourable to his heart, prayed, conjured me not to be
alarmed--It was a trifle--He would be silent--He would not give me a
moment's pain to gratify a million of such silly wishes.
He both moved and revived me. It could not be any thing very dreadful,
and I entreated him to speak. There was nothing he could ask I would
refuse.
He hesitated, and I then became urgent. At last he named--His
song!--Again, Louisa, he almost struck me to the heart!--He feared he
offended me; but there was something so enchanting in the air that he
could not forget it, could not resist the wish to possess a copy.
It was impossible to refuse. I went to my papers, and brought it. The
evil spirit of thoughtlessness possessed me, and when I delivered it I
asked--Is there any thing else?--
Your kindness, madam, said he, is unalterable. Could I?--Durst I--?