I was obliged to pretend extreme hurry to the lad, but I gave my valet
private instructions to take him round, and use as much delay as he
conveniently could. Meanwhile I will send the letter I am now writing
away express, that you may be fully prepared; for this is a point of
infinite consequence. If you are not in Paris the express is to follow
you; and you will be kind enough to take measures that the lad may
follow the express. He is ordered to wait your commands, which I told
him might possibly detain him a month, or even more; though it might
happen that the business would be transacted in a week.
Not that I can hope the real business can now possibly be so soon
finished.
You will take care to make your account agree with mine; and
circumstances oblige me to require of you, Fairfax, to condescend to
get the lad's favour, and not make his stay irksome. You may command me
to ten times this amount, as you know.
This is a melancholy scene, and a gloomy house, and a dismal country;
and I myself am fretful, and moody, and mad, and miserable. I shall
soon get into action, and then it will wear off.
I will have her; ay, by the infernals will I! And on my own terms. I
know she is rejoicing now in her Henley. Eternal curses bite him! But I
will haunt her! I will appear to her in her dreams, and her waking
hours shall not want a glimpse of me. I know she hates me. So be it! If
she did not I could not so readily digest my vengeance. But I know she
does! And she shall have better cause! I never yet submitted to be thus
baffled. She is preparing an imaginary banquet, and I will be there a
real guest. I will meet her at Philippi!
I wish I were away from this place! I wish I were in my mother's
coffin!
I hate to meet this insolent sister of mine. We have had a battle, and
I was in such a frantic rage that I could neither find ideas nor words;
while she was cool, cutting, insolent, impudent--! I never in my life
had so strong an inclination to wring a hussey's neck round.
But I will get away as fast as I can. I am resolved however to turn her
out of the house first. She shall feel me too, before I have done.
Brother with her is no tie, nor shall sister be to me. Her mother has
made but a small provision for her, and has recommended her to my
mercy. She had better have taught her a little humility--
Plagues and pestilence! Why do I worry myself about her? I have quite
causes enough of distraction without that. I must not turn her out of
doors neither, now I remember. If I did she would fly to her friend,
and would make her if possible as great a fury as herself.
Why do I say would make? Do I not know that I am her abhorrence? I
loved her, Fairfax, better than ever I loved woman; and would have
loved her more, have loved her entirely, infinitely, heart and soul, if
she had not wronged me. From the first I was overlooked by her,
catechised, reprimanded, treated like a poor ignoramus; while her
Henley--! If I write any more I shall go mad!--Dash through the window,
or do some desperate act!--