I feel easier in my mind, my dearest Louisa, since I have established a sort of correspondence with the Sylph. I can now, when any intricate circumstance arises, which your distance may disable you from being serviceable in, have an almost immediate assistance in, or at least the concurrence of—my Sylph, my guardian angel!
In a letter I received from him the other day, he told me, "a time might come when he should lose his influence over me; however remote the period, as there was a possibility of his living to see it, the idea filled his mind with sorrow. The only method his skill could divine, of still possessing the privilege of superintending my concerns, would be to have some pledge from me. He flattered himself I should not scruple to indulge this only weakness of humanity he discovered, since I might rest assured he had it neither in his will or inclination to make an ill use of my condescension." The rest of the letter contained advice as usual. I only made this extract to tell you my determination on this head. I think to send a little locket with my hair in it. The design I have formed in my own mind, and, when it is compleated, will describe it to you.
I have seriously reflected on what I had written to you in my last concerning Miss Finch and (let me not practice disingenuity to my beloved sister) the Baron Ton-hausen. Miss Finch called on me yesterday morning—she brought her work. "I am come," said she, "to spend some hours with you." "I wish," returned I, "you would enlarge your plan, and make it the whole day."
"With all my heart," she replied, "if you are to be alone; for I wish to have a good deal of chat with you; and hope we shall have no male impertinents break-in upon our little female tête-à-tête." I knew Sir William was out for the day, and gave orders I should not be at home to any one.
As soon as we were quite by ourselves, "Lord!" said she, "I was monstrously flurried coming hither, for I met Montague in the Park, and could hardly get clear of him—I was fearful he would follow me here." As she first mentioned him, I thought it gave me a kind of right to ask her some questions concerning that gentleman, and the occasion of her rupture with him. She answered me very candidly—"To tell you the truth, my dear Lady Stanley, it is but lately I had much idea that it was necessary to love one's husband, in order to be happy in marriage." "You astonish me," I cried. "Nay, but hear me. Reflect how we young women, who are born in the air of the court, are bred. Our heads filled with nothing but pleasure—let the means of procuring it be, almost, what you will. We marry—but without any notion of its being an union for life—only a few years; and then we make a second choice. But I have lately thought otherwise; and in consequence of these my more serious reflections, am convinced Colonel Montague and I might make a fashionable couple, but never a happy one. I used to laugh at his gaieties, and foolishly thought myself flattered by the attentions of a man whom half my sex had found dangerous; but I never loved him; that I am now more convinced of than ever: and as to reforming his morals—oh! it would not be worth the pains, if the thing was possible.
"Let the women be ever so exemplary, their conduct will have no influence over these professed rakes; these rakes upon principle, as that iniquitous Lord Chesterfield has taught our youth to be. Only look at yourself, I do not mean to flatter you; what effect has your mildness, your thousand and ten thousand good qualities, for I will not pretend to enumerate them, had over the mind of your husband? None. On my conscience, I believe it has only made him worse; because he knew he never should be censured by such a pattern of meekness. And what chance should such an one as I have with one of these modern husbands? I fear me, I should become a modern wife. I think I am not vainglorious, when I say I have not a bad heart, and am ambitious of emulating a good example. On these considerations alone, I resolved to give the Colonel his dismission. He pretended to be much hurt by my determination; but I really believe the loss of my fortune is his greatest disappointment, as I find he has two, if not more, mistresses to console him."
"It would hardly be fair," said I, "after your candid declaration, to call any part in question, or else I should be tempted to ask you, if you had really no other motive for your rejection of the Colonel's suit?"
"You scrutinize pretty closely," returned Miss Finch, blushing; "but I will make no concealments; I have a man in my eye, with whom, I think, the longer the union lasted, the happier I, at least, should be."
"Do I know the happy man?"