To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, March 6.
Your brother is gone nobody knows whither, and without calling upon
us before he set off; we are piqued, I assure you, my dear, and with
some little reason.
Four o'clock.
Very strange news, Lucy; they say Colonel Rivers is gone to marry
Madame Des Roches, a lady at whose house he was some time in autumn; if
this is true, I forswear the whole sex: his manner of stealing off is
certainly very odd, and she is rich and agreable; but, if he does not
love Emily, he has been excessively cruel in shewing an attention which
has deceived her into a passion for him. I cannot believe it possible:
not that he has ever told her he loved her; but a man of honor will
not tell an untruth even with his eyes, and his have spoke a very
unequivocal language.
I never saw any thing like her confusion, when she was told he was
gone to visit Madame Des Roches; but, when it was hinted with what
design, I was obliged to take her out of the room, or she would have
discovered all the fondness of her soul. I really thought she would
have fainted as I led her out.
Eight o'clock.
I have sent away all the men, and drank tea in Emily's apartment;
she has scarce spoke to me; I am miserable for her; she has a paleness
which alarms me, the tears steal every moment into her lovely eyes.
Can Rivers act so unworthy a part? her tenderness cannot have been
unobserved by him; it was too visible to every body.
9th, Ten o'clock.
Not a line from your brother yet; only a confirmation of his being
with Madame Des Roches, having been seen there by some Canadians who
are come up this morning: I am not quite pleased, though I do not
believe the report; he might have told us surely where he was going.
I pity Emily beyond words; she says nothing, but there is a dumb
eloquence in her countenance which is not to be described.
Twelve o'clock.
I have been an hour alone with the dear little girl, who has, from a
hint I dropt on purpose, taken courage to speak to me on this very
interesting subject; she says, "she shall be most unhappy if this
report is true, though without the least right to complain of Colonel
Rivers, who never even hinted a word of any affection for her more
tender than friendship; that if her vanity, her self-love, or her
tenderness, have deceived her, she ought only to blame herself." She
added, "that she wished him to marry Madame Des Roches, if she could
make him happy;" but when she said this, an involuntary tear seemed to
contradict the generosity of her sentiments.
I beg your pardon, my dear, but my esteem for your brother is
greatly lessened; I cannot help fearing there is something in the
report, and that this is what Mrs. Melmoth meant when she mentioned his
having an attachment.
I shall begin to hate the whole sex, Lucy, if I find your brother
unworthy, and shall give Fitzgerald his dismission immediately.
I am afraid Mrs. Melmoth knows men better than we foolish girls do:
she said, he attached himself to Emily meerly from vanity, and I begin
to believe she was right: how cruel is this conduct! The man who from
vanity, or perhaps only to amuse an idle hour, can appear to be
attached where he is not, and by that means seduce the heart of a
deserving woman, or indeed of any woman, falls in my opinion very
little short in baseness of him who practises a greater degree of
seduction.
What right has he to make the most amiable of women wretched? a
woman who would have deserved him had he been monarch of the universal
world! I might add, who has sacrificed ease and affluence to her
tenderness for him?
You will excuse my warmth on such an occasion; however, as it may
give you pain, I will say no more.
Adieu!
Your faithful
A. Fermor.