CASTLE SQUARE, Saturday night (October 15).
MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--Your accounts make us as comfortable as we can
expect to be at such a time. Edward's loss is terrible, and must be felt
as such, and these are too early days indeed to think of moderation in
grief, either in him or his afflicted daughter, but soon we may hope
that our dear Fanny's sense of duty to that beloved father will rouse
her to exertion. For his sake, and as the most acceptable proof of love
to the spirit of her departed mother, she will try to be tranquil and
resigned. Does she feel you to be a comfort to her, or is she too much
overpowered for anything but solitude?
Your account of Lizzy is very interesting. Poor child! One must hope the
impression will be strong, and yet one's heart aches for a dejected mind
of eight years old.
I suppose you see the corpse? How does it appear? We are anxious to be
assured that Edward will not attend the funeral, but when it comes to
the point I think he must feel it impossible.
Your parcel shall set off on Monday, and I hope the shoes will fit;
Martha and I both tried them on. I shall send you such of your mourning
as I think most likely to be useful, reserving for myself your stockings
and half the velvet, in which selfish arrangement I know I am doing what
you wish.
I am to be in bombazeen and crape, according to what we are told is
universal here, and which agrees with Martha's previous observation. My
mourning, however, will not impoverish me, for by having my velvet
pelisse fresh lined and made up, I am sure I shall have no occasion this
winter for anything new of that sort. I take my cloak for the lining,
and shall send yours on the chance of its doing something of the same
for you, though I believe your pelisse is in better repair than mine.
One Miss Baker makes my gown and the other my bonnet, which is to be
silk covered with crape.
I have written to Edward Cooper, and hope he will not send one of his
letters of cruel comfort to my poor brother: and yesterday I wrote to
Alethea Bigg, in reply to a letter from her. She tells us in confidence
that Catherine is to be married on Tuesday se'nnight. Mr. Hill is
expected at Manydown in the course of the ensuing week.
We are desired by Mrs. Harrison and Miss Austen to say everything proper
for them to yourself and Edward on this sad occasion, especially that
nothing but a wish of not giving additional trouble where so much is
inevitable prevents their writing themselves to express their concern.
They seem truly to feel concern.
I am glad you can say what you do of Mrs. Knight and of Goodnestone in
general. It is a great relief to me to know that the shock did not make
any of them ill. But what a task was yours to announce it! Now I hope
you are not overpowered with letter-writing, as Henry and John can ease
you of many of your correspondents.
Was Mr. Scudamore in the house at the time, was any application
attempted, and is the seizure at all accounted for?
_Sunday._--As Edward's letter to his son is not come here, we know that
you must have been informed as early as Friday of the boys being at
Steventon, which I am glad of.
Upon your letter to Dr. Goddard's being forwarded to them, Mary wrote to
ask whether my mother wished to have her grandsons sent to her. We
decided on their remaining where they were, which I hope my brother will
approve of. I am sure he will do us the justice of believing that in
such a decision we sacrificed inclination to what we thought best.
I shall write by the coach to-morrow to Mrs. J. A., and to Edward, about
their mourning, though this day's post will probably bring directions to
them on that subject from yourselves. I shall certainly make use of the
opportunity of addressing our nephew on the most serious of all
concerns, as I naturally did in my letter to him before. The poor boys
are, perhaps, more comfortable at Steventon than they could be here, but
you will understand my feelings with respect to it.
To-morrow will be a dreadful day for you all. Mr. Whitfield's will be a
severe duty.[7] Glad shall I be to hear that it is over.
That you are forever in our thoughts you will not doubt. I see your
mournful party in my mind's eye under every varying circumstance of the
day; and in the evening especially figure to myself its sad gloom: the
efforts to talk, the frequent summons to melancholy orders and cares,
and poor Edward, restless in misery, going from one room to another, and
perhaps not seldom upstairs, to see all that remains of his Elizabeth.
Dearest Fanny must now look upon herself as his prime source of comfort,
his dearest friend; as the being who is gradually to supply to him, to
the extent that is possible, what he has lost. This consideration will
elevate and cheer her.
Adieu. You cannot write too often, as I said before. We are heartily
rejoiced that the poor baby gives you no particular anxiety. Kiss dear
Lizzy for us. Tell Fanny that I shall write in a day or two to Miss
Sharpe.
My mother is not ill.
Yours most truly, J. AUSTEN.
Tell Henry that a hamper of apples is gone to him from Kintbury, and
that Mr. Fowle intended writing on Friday (supposing him in London) to
beg that the charts, etc., may be consigned to the care of the Palmers.
Mrs. Fowle has also written to Miss Palmer to beg she will send for
them.
Miss AUSTEN, EDWARD AUSTEN'S, Esq.,
Godmersham Park, Faversham, Kent.