LETTER 89.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Quebec, March 6.

I cannot account, my dear, for what has happened to me. I left

Madame Des Roches's full of the warm impatience of love, and flew to my

Emily at Silleri: I was received with a disdainful coldness which I did

not think had been in her nature, and which has shocked me beyond all

expression.

I went again to-day, and met with the same reception; I even saw my

presence was painful to her, therefore shortened my visit, and, if I

have resolution to persevere, will not go again till invited by Captain

Fermor in form.

I could bear any thing but to lose her affection; my whole heart was

set upon her: I had every reason to believe myself dear to her. Can

caprice find a place in that bosom which is the abode of every virtue?

I must have been misrepresented to her, or surely this could not

have happened: I will wait to-morrow, and if I hear nothing will write

to her, and ask an explanation by letter; she refused me a verbal one

to-day, though I begged to speak with her only for a moment.

Tuesday.

I have been asked on a little riding party, and, as I cannot go to

Silleri, have accepted it: it will amuse my present anxiety.

I am to drive Mademoiselle Clairaut, a very pretty French lady: this

is however of no consequence, for my eyes see nothing lovely but Emily.

Adieu!

Your affectionate

Ed. Rivers.

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