Continuation of the Story of the Loves of Reubon and Celeste.
Your recollection must be recalled to the fatal and decisive interview of Wednesday. The result only was stated in a former letter. It would have required too much time to compress into the compass of one or two sheets a conversation of two hours. The details are therefore omitted; but a circumstance which will increase your surprise at the incident related yesterday morning is, that, on Wednesday night, Reubon received by the hands of a servant of Celeste, sent for the sole purpose seven miles, a letter from her, couched in civil terms, but expressing "an unalterable determination never to listen again to his suit, and requesting that the subject might never be renewed." Reubon returned home late last evening, and was told that a boy had been three times in the course of the afternoon and evening to deliver him a message, but refused to say from whom he came. The last time the servant of Reubon traced the boy to the house of Celeste in town. It was not known that Celeste had been that day in town, and no conjecture could be formed as to the owner of the boy or the object of his message. The note received by Reubon this morning explains the mystery. The letter which I wrote you by the mail left Reubon puzzling his brain to discover the meaning of that note, and just going out to obey the challenge which it conveyed. He went, as you were apprized, and has just now returned and communicated what you shall now hear.
Some years ago, a worthy country judge, having heard a cause very ingeniously debated by lawyers on each side, when he came to charge the jury, did it in the words following: "Gentlemen of the jury, you must get along with this cause as well as you can; for my part, I am swamp'd." Now Reubon is exactly in the case of this judge, and I am at a loss what to advise him. You could unravel this thing in five minutes. Would to God you were here; but to the story.
He found Celeste with a visitor; some female neighbour, who sat a full half hour. Celeste betrayed considerable agitation when Reubon came in, and the most palpable impatience at the long stay of the lady visitor. At length she went, and the parties were alone. As she had desired the interview, it was her place to speak first. After a pause and several efforts, she, with some trepidation, said that she feared the letter which she had writen had not been expressed in terms sufficiently polite and respectful; she had wished an opportunity to apologize; and here she stuck. Reubon ought in mercy and in politeness to have taken up the conversation; but he, expecting no such thing, was taken by surprise, and remained dumb, with a kind of half grin. The duette, at this moment, would have made a charming subject for the pencil of Vanderlyn. Celeste was profoundly occupied in tearing up some roses which she held in her hand, and Reubon was equally industrious in twirling his hat, and pinching some new corners and angles in the brim. At length he recovered himself so far as to gain utterance. He denied, plumply, that there was want of politeness or respect in the letter; and, after many awkward detours and half-finished sentences, he said he would return the letter, and would consider it as cancelling the determination which it contained, and proposed to call on her in the country to-morrow morning to renew his suit. This was faintly opposed. He changed the course of conversation, without insisting on a formal permission or refusal, and then went into the subject of celibacy and matrimony, and passed an hour tête-à-tête. It may be worth noting that, towards the close of the conversation, some one knocked, and that she went out and ordered the servant to deny her, from which it may be inferred that she was not disagreeably engaged, and that she did not wish to be interrupted.
Now, ma Minerve, is not this a very ridiculous posture for so grave an affair? And is not Reubon in a way to be coquetted, with his eyes open? I rather think he erred in giving to the apology of Celeste any other meaning than she literally expressed. Thus he might have compelled her to be more explicit. On the other hand, if she did in fact repent, and so suddenly, it would seem too harsh and fastidious to shut the door against all treaty and negotiation. Upon the whole, however, I conclude that if she wished, for any kind reason, to retreat, she should have gone further, and held out something like encouragement; in short, have met him half way. It may, I know, be replied, that her habits of life and singular education forbid every thing like advance; and that a lady may always presume that her lover, if sincere, will seize the slightest ground for hope; and that, in the logic of love, an equivocal refusal is assent. Certainly, this last interview has been illy managed on the part of Reubon, but I have not yet resolved what to advise. This is left open till morning, when perhaps a word may be added.
Saturday morning.
From the state of things it is obvious that there can, at this hour, be no new fact to communicate; but I have no longer any doubts as to the meaning of the late scene, nor as to the line of conduct to be pursued by Reubon. The note of Celeste is one of those trifling incidents which are too small for calculation, which may have arisen from the trifling motive assigned. Perhaps from a little spirit of coquetry, perhaps a mere piece of sport. He shall, therefore, take no further notice of it; not even to go out this morning to see her, as he had solicited and engaged; and, when he shall next meet her, make some slight apology. Thus the thing is settled.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Philadelphia, June 12, 1803.