To Mrs. Temple, Pall Mall.
Silleri, March 27, evening.
Fitzgerald has been here, and has begged my pardon; he declares he
had no thought of displeasing me at the governor's, but from my
behaviour was afraid of importuning me if he addressed me as usual.
I thought who would come to first; for my part, if he had stayed
away for ever, I would not have suffered papa to invite him to Silleri:
it was easy to see his neglect was all pique; it would have been
extraordinary indeed if such a woman as Madame La Brosse could have
rivalled me: I am something younger; and, if either my glass or the men
are to be believed, as handsome: _entre nous_, there is some
little difference; if she was not so very fair, she would be
absolutely ugly; and these very fair women, you know, Lucy, are always
insipid; she is the taste of no man breathing, though eternally making
advances to every man; without spirit, fire, understanding, vivacity,
or any quality capable of making amends for the mediocrity of her
charms.
Her insolence in attempting to attach Fitzgerald is intolerable,
especially when the whole province knows him to be my lover: there is
no expressing to what a degree I hate her.
The next time we meet I hope to return her impertinence on Thursday
night at the governor's; I will never forgive Fitzgerald if he takes
the least notice of her.
Emily has read my letter; and says she did not think I had so much
of the woman in me; insists on my being civil to Madame La Brosse, but
if I am, Lucy--
These Frenchwomen are not to be supported; they fancy vanity and
assurance are to make up for the want of every other virtue; forgetting
that delicacy, softness, sensibility, tenderness, are attractions to
which they are strangers: some of them here are however tolerably
handsome, and have a degree of liveliness which makes them not quite
insupportable.
You will call all this spite, as Emily does, so I will say no more:
only that, in order to shew her how very easy it is to be civil to a
rival, I wish for the pleasure of seeing another French lady, that I
could mention, at Quebec.
Good night, my dear! tell Temple, I am every thing but in love with
him.
Your faithful,
A. Fermor.
I will however own, I encouraged Fitzgerald by a kind look. I was
so pleased at his return, that I could not keep up the farce of disdain
I had projected: in love affairs, I am afraid, we are all fools alike.