_Frank Henley to Oliver Trenchard_
_London, Grosvenor Street_
My mind, Oliver, is harassed by a variety of doubts. I believe I shall
soon be down at Wenbourne Hill, and of course shall then not fail to
meet thee and visit thy most worthy father.
The reason of my journey originates in the doubts I mentioned. I am
angry with myself for feeling alarms at one moment which appear
impossibilities the next. If my fears have any foundation, this Clifton
is the deepest, the most hardened fiend-like hypocrite imagination can
paint!--But it cannot be!--Surely it cannot!--I am guilty, heinously
guilty for enduring such a thought!--So much folly and vice, combined
with understanding and I may say genius so uncommon, is a supposition
too extravagant, too injurious!
And yet it is strange, Oliver!--A conduct so suddenly altered, so
totally opposite to old and inveterate habits, is scarcely
reconcileable to the human character. But if dissimulation can be
productive of this, is truth less powerful? No!--Truth is omnipotent.
Yet who ever saw it hasty in its progress? My only hope in this case is
that the superiority of his mind has rendered him an exception to
general rules.
But what could he propose by his hypocrisy?--I cannot tell--His
passions are violent and ungovernable; and are or very lately have been
in full vigour--Again and again 'tis strange!
But what of this?--Why these fears? Can she be spotted, tinged by the
stain of unsanctified desire?--Never!--The pure chastity of her soul is
superior to attaint!--Yet--Who can say?--Wilfully her mind can never
err: but who can affirm that even she may not be deceived, and may not
act erroneously from the most holy motives?
Perhaps, Oliver, it is my own situation, my own desires, but half
subdued, in which these doubts take birth. If so they are highly
culpable.
Be it as it may, there is a duty visibly chalked out for me by
circumstances. Her present situation is surely a state of danger. To
see them married would now give me delight. It would indeed be the
delight of despair, of gloom almost approaching horror. But of that I
must not think. My father is the cause of the present delay. I fear I
cannot remove this impediment, but it becomes me to try.
Though I had before conceived the design, this conduct has even been
suggested to me by Clifton; and in a mode that proves he can be artful
if he please. Yet does it not likewise prove him to be in earnest?
We have lately had several conversations, one in particular which,
even while it seemed to place him in an amiable, sincere, and generous
light, excited some of the very doubts and terrors of which I
speak--If he be a hypocrite, he guards himself with a tenfold
mask!--It cannot--No--It cannot be!--
I mean to speak to Sir Arthur concerning my journey, but not to inform
him of its purport: it would have the face of insult to tell him I was
going to be his advocate with his servant. Not to mention that he has
lately treated me with increasing and indeed unusual kindness. If I do
make an effort, however, it shall be a strenuous one; though my hopes
that it should be effectual are very few. My decision is not yet final,
but in my next thou wilt probably learn the result. Farewell.