LETTER XXV.
Miss WARLEY to the same.
From Mr. Jenkings's.
Now, my dear Lady, am I ready for my departure:—Sir James and Lady Powis reconciled to my leaving them;—yet how can I call it reconciled, when I tear myself from their arms as they weep over me?—Heavens! how tenderly they love me!—Their distress, when I told them the day was absolutely fix'd; when I told them the necessity of my going, their distress nothing could equal but my own.—I thought my heart would have sunk within me!—Surely, my Lady, my affection for them is not a common affection;—it is such as I hear your dear self;—it is such as I felt for my revered Mrs. Whitmore.—I cannot dwell on this subject—indeed I cannot.
I almost wish I had not kept the day so long a secret.—But suppose I had not,—would their concern have been lessen'd?
I would give the world, if Mr. Jenkings was come home:—his wife is like a frantic woman; and declares, if I persist in going, I shall break the heart of her and her husband.—Why do they love me so well?—It cannot be from any deserts of mine:—I have done no more than common gratitude demands;—the affection I shew them is only the result of their own kindness.—Benevolent hearts never place any thing to their own account:—they look on returns as presents, not as just debts:—so, whether giving or receiving, the glory must be their's.
I fancy Mr. Smith will not be here 'till to morrow, his Lady having wrote me, he intended spending the evening with an acquaintance of his about six miles from the Abbey.
How I dread the hour of parting!—Poor Mr. Watson!—I fear I shall never see him more.—Mr. Morgan too! but he is likely to live many years.—There is something in this strange man excessively engaging.—If people have roughness, better to appear in the voice, in the air and dress, than in the heart: a want of softness there, I never can dispense with.—What is a graceful form, what are numberless accomplishments, without humanity? I love, I revere, the honest, plain, well-meaning Mr. Morgan.
Hark! I hear the trampling of horses.—Mr. Jenkings is certainly return'd.—I hasten down to be the first who shall inform him of my departure.
How am I mortified to see Aaron return without his master!—Whilst Mrs. Jenkings was busied in enquiries after the health of her good man, I was all impatience for the contents of a letter she held in her hand, unopen'd: having broke the seal, and run her eye hastily over it, she gave it me.—I think my recollection will serve to send it verbatim to your Ladyship.
Mr. JENKINGS to Mrs. JENKINGS.
"My Dear,
I dispatch Aaron to acquaint you it is impossible for me to be home till Wednesday. Mr. Stapleton is gone to London: I am obliged to attend Lord Darcey thither. I love his Lordship more and more.—He has convinc'd me our conjectures were not without foundation.—Heaven grant it may end to our wishes!—There are, he thinks, difficulties to be overcome. Let him think it:—his happiness will be more exquisite when he is undeceiv'd.—Distribute my dutiful respects to Sir James, Lady Powis, and Miss Warley; next to yourself and our dear Edmund, they are nearest the heart of your truly affectionate husband
JENKINGS."
I will make no comments on this letter; it cannot concern me,—What can I do about seeing Mr. Jenkings before I go?—
Lord bless me! a chaise and four just stopp'd; Mr. Smith in it.—Heavens! how my heart throbs!—I did not expect him 'till to-morrow: I must run to receive him.—How shall I go up to the Abbey!—how support the last embrace of Sir James and Lady Powis!
Ten at Night, just come from the Abbey.
Torn in pieces!—my poor heart torn in pieces!—I shall never see them more;—never again be strain'd to their parental bosoms.—Forgive me, my dearest Lady, I do not grieve that I am coming to you; I grieve only that I go from them.—Oh God! why must my soul be divided?
Another struggle too with poor Mrs. Jenkings!—She has been on her knees:—yes, thus lowly has she condescended to turn me from my purpose, and suffer Mr. Smith to go back without me,—I blush to think what pain, what trouble I occasion.—She talks of some important event at hand. She says if I go, it will, end in the destruction of us all.—What can she mean by an important event?—Perhaps Lord Darcey—but no matter; nothing, my dear Lady, shall with-hold me from you.—The good woman is now more calm. I have assured her it is uncertain how long we may be in London: it is only that has calm'd her.—She says, she is certain I shall return;—she is certain, when Mr. Powis and his Lady arrives, I must return.—Next Thursday they are expected:—already are they arrived at Falmouth:—but, notwithstanding what I have told Mrs. Jenkings, to soften her pains at parting, I shall by Thursday be on my voyage;—for Mr. Smith tells me the Packet will sail immediately.—Perhaps I may be the messenger of my own letters:—but I am determin'd to write on 'till I see you;—that when I look them over, my memory may receive some assistance.—Good night, my dearest Lady; Mrs. Jenkings and Mr. Smith expects me.
F. Warley.