LETTER LXXXIV.84.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Silleri, March 6.
Your brother is gone nobody knows whither, and without calling upon us before he set off; we are piqued, I assure you, my dear, and with some little reason.
Four o’clock.
Very strange news, Lucy; they say Colonel Rivers is gone to marry Madame Des Roches, a lady at whose house he was some time in autumn; if this is true, I forswear the whole sex: his manner of stealing off is certainly very odd, and she is rich and agreable; but, if he does not love Emily, he has been excessively cruel in shewing an attention which has deceived her into a passion for him. I cannot believe it possible: not that he has ever told her he loved her; but a man of honor will not tell an untruth even with his eyes, and his have spoke a very unequivocal language.
I never saw any thing like her confusion, when she was told he was gone to visit Madame Des Roches; but, when it was hinted with what design, I was obliged to take her out of the room, or she would have discovered all the fondness of her soul. I really thought she would have fainted as I led her out.
Eight o’clock.
I have sent away all the men, and drank tea in Emily’s apartment; she has scarce spoke to me; I am miserable for her; she has a paleness which alarms me, the tears steal every moment into her lovely eyes. Can Rivers act so unworthy a part? her tenderness cannot have been unobserved by him; it was too visible to every body.
9th, Ten o’clock.
Not a line from your brother yet; only a confirmation of his being with Madame Des Roches, having been seen there by some Canadians who are come up this morning: I am not quite pleased, though I do not believe the report; he might have told us surely where he was going.
I pity Emily beyond words; she says nothing, but there is a dumb eloquence in her countenance which is not to be described.
Twelve o’clock.
I have been an hour alone with the dear little girl, who has, from a hint I dropt on purpose, taken courage to speak to me on this very interesting subject; she says, “she shall be most unhappy if this report is true, though without the least right to complain of Colonel Rivers, who never even hinted a word of any affection for her more tender than friendship; that if her vanity, her self-love, or her tenderness, have deceived her, she ought only to blame herself.” She added, “that she wished him to marry Madame Des Roches, if she could make him happy;” but when she said this, an involuntary tear seemed to contradict the generosity of her sentiments.
I beg your pardon, my dear, but my esteem for your brother is greatly lessened; I cannot help fearing there is something in the report, and that this is what Mrs. Melmoth meant when she mentioned his having an attachment.
I shall begin to hate the whole sex, Lucy, if I find your brother unworthy, and shall give Fitzgerald his dismission immediately.
I am afraid Mrs. Melmoth knows men better than we foolish girls do: she said, he attached himself to Emily meerly from vanity, and I begin to believe she was right: how cruel is this conduct! The man who from vanity, or perhaps only to amuse an idle hour, can appear to be attached where he is not, and by that means seduce the heart of a deserving woman, or indeed of any woman, falls in my opinion very little short in baseness of him who practises a greater degree of seduction.
What right has he to make the most amiable of women wretched? a woman who would have deserved him had he been monarch of the universal world! I might add, who has sacrificed ease and affluence to her tenderness for him?
You will excuse my warmth on such an occasion; however, as it may give you pain, I will say no more.
Adieu!
Your faithful
A. Fermor.