LETTER XXVI. MRS. DODD TO MR. PURCELL, OF THE GRANGE, BRUFF.
BADEN-BADEN.
Dear Mr. Purcell,—Your letter is now before me, and if I did n't know the mark of your hand before, I 'd scarce believe the sentiments was yours. It well becomes you, one that but one woman would ever accept of, to lecture the likes of me on the way I ought to treat my husband. A stingy old creature that sits croaking over an extra sod of turf on the fire, and counts out the potatoes to the kitchen, is not exactly the kind of authority to dictate laws to the respectable head of a family! I often suspected the nature of the advice you gave K. I., but I did n't think you 'd have the hardihood to come out with it yourself, and to me! How much you must have forgotten both of us, it's mighty clear!
Where did you get all the elegant expressions about K. I.'s "unavoidably prolonged absence," "the sacrifices exacted from friendship," "the generous ardor of a chivalrous nature," and the other fine balderdash you bestow upon your friend's disgraceful behavior? Do you know what you are talking about? Have you a notion about the affair at all? Answer me that. Are you aware that he is now two months and four days away without as much as a letter, except a bit of an impertinent note, once, to ask are we alive or dead, not a sixpence in cash, not a check, nor even a bill that we might try to get protested, or whatever they call it? I don't make any illusions to why he went, and what he went for. I would n't disgrace my pen with the subject, nor myself by noticing it; but, except yourself, in the brown wig and the black satin small clothes, I don't know one less suited to perform the "Lutherian." You are a nice pair, and I expect nothing less than to hear of yourself next! And you have the impudence to tell me that these are some of the "innocent freedoms of Continental life"! What do you know about them, I 'd beg to ask,—you, that never was nearer the Continent than Malahide? As to the innocent freedoms of the Continent, there's nobody can teach me anything; I see them before me in the day when I drive out, at the table d'hôte where I dine, and at every ball where they dance. Sweet innocence it is, indeed! and particularly when practised by the father of a grown-up family,—fifty-seven, he says, in June, but more likely sixty odd, for I know many of his co-trumperies, and nice young gentlemen they are too!
You assure me that you sympathize sincerely with K. I. I 've no objection to that; he 'll need all the comfort it can give him when he comes home again, or I 'm much mistaken. With the help of the saints, I 'll teach him the differ between going off with a lady and living with his lawful wife. If he didn't know the distinction before, he shall now! And then you think to terrify me about the state of his health. It won't do, Mr. Tom Purcell. He 'll live to disgrace us this many a year. I know well what his constitution can bear, and what he calls the gout is neither more nor less than the outbreaks of his violent and furious temper! Never flatter yourself, therefore, that you can make any of us uneasy on that score; and if he comes back on a litter, it won't save him.
Your "sincere regrets that we ever came abroad" are very elegantly expressed, and require all my acknowledgments. Is n't there anything else you are sorry for? Is n't it grief to you that we never caught the smallpox, or that James was n't transported for forgery? We ought to have stayed at Bruff; and, judging from the charms of your style, I have no doubt that we might have derived great benefit from your vicinity.
You are eloquent, too, about expense; and add that you always believed that there was no economy in living abroad. Perhaps not, sir, if one unites foreign vices with home ones; but I beg to say, when we left Dodsborough, I, for one, never contemplated the cost of two establishments,—take that, Mr. Tom Purcell!
I wonder at myself how I keep my temper, and condescend to argue with you about points on which an old bachelor, or widower (for it's the same), must necessarily be ignorant. Don't you perceive that for you to discourse on family matters is like a deaf man describing music?
And you wind up about the privileges of old friendship, and so on! It's a new notion of friendship that makes a man impudent! Where did you ever hear that knowing people a long time was a reason for insulting them? As to your kind inquiries for the girls, I 'd have liked them as well if not coupled with those "natural fears" for the consequences of foreign contamination. Mary Anne and myself got a hearty laugh out of your terrors; and so I forgive your mention of them.
James is quite well; and would, he says, be better, if that remittance you spoke of had arrived.
You tell me that the McCarthy legacy is paid, and the money lodged at Latouche's. But what's the use of that? It's here I want it. Find out a safe hand, if you can, and send it over to me; for I 'm resolved to have nothing to do with bills as long as I live.
And now I believe I have gone through the principal matters in your last, and I hope given you my ideas as clearly as your own. It may save you some time and stationery if I say that my mind is made up about K.I.; and if it was Queen Victoria was interceding for him, I'd not alter my sentiments. It's no use appealing "to the goodness of my heart, and the feminine sweetness of my nature;" all that you say on that head is only a warning to me not to let my weaknesses get the upper hand of me: a lesson I will endeavor to profit by, so long as I write myself,
Your very obedient to command,
Jemima Dodd.