_Anna Wenbourne St. Ives to Louisa Clifton_
_London, Grosvenor-Street_
He is gone, Louisa; has left us; his purpose unchanged, his heart
oppressed, and his mind intent on promoting the happiness of those by
whom he is exiled. And what am I, or who, that I should do him this
violence? What validity have these arguments of rank, relationship, and
the world's opprobrium? Are they just? He refuted them: so he thought,
and so _persists_ to think. And who was ever less partial, or more
severe to himself?
Louisa, my mind is greatly disturbed. His high virtues, the exertion of
them for the peculiar protection of me and my family, and the dread of
committing an act of unpardonable injustice, if unjust it be, are
images that haunt and tantalize me incessantly.
If my conclusions have been false, and if his asserted claims be true,
how shall I answer those which I have brought upon myself? The claims
of your brother, which he urges without remission, are still stronger.
They have been countenanced, admitted, and encouraged. I cannot recede.
What can I do but hope, ardently hope, Frank Henley is in an error, and
that he himself may make the discovery? Yet how long and fruitless have
these hopes been! My dilemma is extreme; for, if I have been mistaken,
act how I will, extreme must be the wrong I commit!
Little did I imagine a moment so full of bitter doubt and distrust as
this could come. Were I but satisfied of the rectitude of my decision,
there are no sensations which I could not stifle, no affections which I
could not calm, nor any wandering wishes but what I could reprove to
silence. But the dread of a flagrant, an odious injustice distracts me,
and I know not where or of whom to seek consolation. Even my Louisa,
the warm friend of my heart, cannot determine in my favour.
Your brother has been with me. He found me in tears, enquired the
cause, and truth demanded a full and unequivocal confidence. I shewed
him what I had been writing. You may well imagine, Louisa, he did not
read it with total apathy. But he suppressed his own feelings with
endeavours to give relief to mine. He argued to shew me my motives had
been highly virtuous. He would not say--[His candour delighted me,
Louisa.]--He would not say there was no ground for my fears: he was
interested and might be partial. He believed indeed I had acted in
strict conformity to the purest principles; but, had I even been
mistaken, the origin of my mistake was so dignified as totally to
deprive the act of all possible turpitude.
He was soothing and kind, gave high encomiums to Frank, took blame to
himself for the error of his former opinions, and, reminding me of the
motives which first induced me to think of him, tenderly asked if I had
any new or recent cause to be weary of my task.
What could I answer? What, but that I was delighted with the rapid
change perceptible in his sentiments, and with the ardour with which
his enquiries were continued?
Frank Henley is by this time at Wenbourne Hill. You will see him. Plead
our cause, Louisa: urge him to remain among us. Condescend even to
enforce my selfish motive, that he would not leave me under the
torturing supposition of having banished him from a country which he
was born to enlighten, reform, and bless!
There is indeed another argument; but I know not whether it ought to be
mentioned. Sir Arthur owns he is in the power of the avaricious
Abimelech, and I believe is in dread of foreclosures that might even
eject him from Wenbourne Hill. This man must have been an early and a
deep adventurer in the trade of usury, or he never could have gained
wealth so great as he appears to have amassed.
Past incidents, with all of which you are acquainted, have given Sir
Arthur a high opinion of Frank: and this added to his own fears, I am
persuaded, would lead him to consider a union between us at present
with complacency, were not such an inclination opposed by other
circumstances. The open encouragement that he himself has given to
Clifton is one, and it is strengthened by all the interest of the other
branches of our family. Your brother is highly in favour with Lord Fitz
Allen. My aunt Wenbourne equally approves the match, and Clifton and my
brother Edward are become intimate. As to me, reason, consistency, and
my own forward conduct, oblige me to be the enemy of Frank.
Louisa, I scarcely know what I write! Think not I have abandoned myself
to the capricious gusts of passion; or that my love of uncontaminated
and rigorous virtue is lessened. No, it is indecision, it is an
abhorrence of injustice which shake and disquiet me.
Write to me; let me know your sentiments; and particularly how far your
application to Frank, when you have made it, is successful. I am
anxious to receive your letter, for I know it will inspire fortitude,
of which I am in great, great need.