LETTER XLI
The Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH to the same.
London.
Build in the park, and live batchelors!—Pish!—A horrid scheme!—I give it up.—Over head and ears, Dick!
Last Monday arriv'd at his Lordship's house in St. James's-Square, the Right Honourable the Earl and Countess of Hampstead,—Lord Hallum,—the Ladies Elizabeth and Sophia Curtis.
True, as I hope to be sav'd;—and as true, that Lady Elizabeth and Sophia are blooming as angels.
Three times have I sat down, pen in my hand, paper folded, yet could not tune my mind to write one word.—Over head and ears! I say.—
Past one in the morning!—All silent! Let me try if I can scribble now.
First, I must tell you the body drove on shore at Dover, which I concluded was Miss Powis's, is discover'd to be a Miss Frances Walsh, going over in the yacht which was unfortunately cast-away;—the corpse much defac'd:—but what confirm'd it to be the body of Miss Powis, was a handkerchief taken from the neck mark'd F W.—Poor young Lady! her friends, perhaps are suffering the excesses of grief which you and I have so lately witness'd.—But this is a subject I shall not dwell on.
I came to Town this evening with Darcey:—he bore the journey very poorly;—sinking, fainting, all the way.—When we got to our lodgings, and he was put into a bed, recovering a little, he press'd me to go to the Banker's.—I saw his impatience, and went immediately.
My name was no sooner sent up, than Mr. Powis flew to receive me.—Welcome, my friend! said he; you come opportunely. We have a noble family with us that has been just wishing to see Mr. Molesworth.—He had time for no more; the door open'd.—What was my surprize to be embrac'd by Lord Hampstead and Lord Hallum, by them, led to the Countess and our two divinities, whose mild eyes,—whose elegant deportment, told me Loves and Graces had put a finishing stroke to the great work of virtue and humility.—Lady Mary Sutton,—yes, Lady Mary Sutton too was there: she advanc'd towards me, Miss Powis in her hand.
I have the honour, said Mr. Powis, of presenting Lady Mary Sutton (the source of all my felicity) to Mr. Molesworth.—Then addressing himself to her Ladyship, Permit me, Madam, to introduce to you the friend I love.
If ever I wish'd to shine, it was then—I would have given the world for eloquence;—nay, common understanding.—The former I never possessed:—A surprize and pleasure had flown away with the latter.—Miss Powis has that looks through one's very soul—a sweet compassionate eye: the dignity it expresses bespeaks your confidence.—She perceived my embarrassment, and said, Come, Mr. Molesworth, let me have the satisfaction of placing you next Lady Mary. So down sat the stupid blockhead.—Her Ladyship is very chatty, and very affable; she said a thousand obliging things; but half was lost upon me, whilst I watch'd the lips of my fair Elizabeth.
Mr. Mrs. Powis, and Lady Mary, enquired affectionately after the health of Lord Darcey. When I said he was come to Town, up flew the heart's tell-tale to the face of Miss Powis.—Her father and mother ask'd, if they might have the happiness of waiting on his Lordship next morning.—I arose to assure them what joy their visit would occasion; when having settled the hour, and so forth, I slid to a chair vacant between Lady Elizabeth and Lady Sophia,—How enchanting did they look!—how enchanting did they speak!—No reserve;—all frankness;—the same innocence in their manners as at fifteen;—the vivacity of the French,—the sedateness of the English, how charmingly blended!
Risby, thou art a fortunate fellow: Lady Sophia speaks of thee with esteem.
The sweet syrens—syrens only by attraction—held me by the ear upwards of an hour.—From them I learnt Lady Mary Sutton came to England, on receiving an account from Mr. Delves that Miss Powis had the small-pox.—Happy for us, Dick, they lov'd Lady Mary too well to stay behind her!
As I was listening to their entertaining descriptions of places abroad, we were join'd by Lord Hallum.—Molesworth, said his Lordship, I will not suffer these girls to engage you solely:—My prating sisters are grown so saucy that I am obliged to be a very tyrant.—
A spirited conversation ensued, in which the cherub sisters bore away the palm.
More and more sick of my batchelor notions!—Yet I aver, that state should be my choice, rather than swallow one grain of indifference in the matrimonial pill, gilder'd over ever so nicely.—Think what must be my friendship for Darcey, to tear myself from this engageing circle before nine!—As I was taking my leave, Lady Mary stepp'd towards me.—To-morrow, Mr. Molesworth, said her Ladyship, I bespeak the favour of your company and Lord Darcey's to dine with me in Pall-Mall:—I bow'd, and answer'd both for his Lordship and myself.
We shall rejoice, continued she, to congratulate your friend on his recovery,—looking with peculiar meaning at Miss Powis.—I think by that look there will be an interview between the lovers, though I did not say so much to Darcey.—He requires sleep: none would he have had, if he knew my surmises.—I'll to bed, and dream of Lady Elizabeth;—so good night, Dick.
Twelve o'clock at noon.
Mr. and Mrs. Powis this moment gone;—Lord Darcey dressing to meet them in Pall-Mall.—Yes, they are to be there;—and the whole groupe of beauties are to be there;—Miss Powis,—Lady Elizabeth,—Lady Sophia,—and the little sprightly hawk-eyed Delves.—Risby, you know nothing of life; you are dead and buried.
I will try to be serious.—Impossible! my head runs round and round with pleasure.—The interview was affecting to the last degree.—Between whom?—Why Darcey, Mr. and Mrs.—faith I can write no more.
MOLESWORTH.