To Colonel Rivers, at Bellfield, Rutland.
Rose-hill, Sept. 18.
Since I sent away my letter, I have your last.
You tell me, my dear Rivers, the strong emotion I betrayed at seeing
Sir George, when you came together to Montreal, made you fear I loved
him; that you were jealous of the blush which glowed on my cheek, when
he entered the room: that you still remember it with regret; that you
still fancy I had once some degree of tenderness for him, and beg me to
account for the apparent confusion I betrayed at his sight.
I own that emotion; my confusion was indeed too great to be
concealed: but was he alone, my Rivers? can you forget that he had with
him the most lovely of mankind?
Sir George was handsome; I have often regarded his person with
admiration, but it was the admiration we give to a statue.
I listened coldly to his love, I felt no emotion at his sight; but
when you appeared, my heart beat, I blushed, I turned pale by turns, my
eyes assumed a new softness, I trembled, and every pulse confessed the
master of my soul.
My friends are come: I am called down. Adieu! Be assured your Emily
never breathed a sigh but for her Rivers!
Adieu! Yours,
Emily Montague.