LETTER CXLIV.146.
To Mrs. Temple, Pall Mall.
Silleri, May 24.
Emily has wrote to you, and appears more composed; she does not however tell me what she has resolved; she has only mentioned a design of spending a week at Quebec. I suppose she will take no resolution till your brother comes down: he cannot be here in less than ten days.
She has heard from him, and he has fixed on a settlement: depend however on his return to England, even if it is not to stay. I wish he could prevail on Mrs. Rivers to acompanyaccompany him back. The advantages of his design are too great to lose; the voyage is nothing; the climate healthy beyond all conception.
I fancy he will marry as soon as he comes down from Montreal, set off in the first ship for England, leave Emily with me, and return to us next year: at least, this is the plan my heart has formed.
I wish Mrs. Rivers had born his absence better; her impatience to see him has broken in on all our schemes; Emily and I had in fancy formed a little Eden on Lake Champlain: Fitzgerald had promised me to apply for lands near them; we should have been so happy in our little new world of friendship.
There is nothing certain in this vile state of existence: I could philosophize extremely well this morning.
All our little plans of amusement too for this summer are now at an end; your brother was the soul of all our parties. This is a trifle, but my mind to-day seeks for every subject of chagrin.
Let but my Emily be happy, and I will not complain, even if I lose her: I have a thousand fears, a thousand uneasy reflections: if you knew her merit, you would not wish to break the attachment.
My sweet Emily is going this morning to Quebec; I have promised to accompany her, and she now waits for me.
I cannot write: I have a heaviness about my heart, which has never left me since I read your letter. ’Tis the only disagreable one I ever received from my dear Lucy: I am not sure I love you so well as before I saw this letter. There is something unfeeling in the style of it, which I did not expect from you.
Adieu! your faithful
A. Fermor.