And thus, Walter, we passed away the morning:—he, affirming; I denying. I fairly overshot my mark in leading him to talk so often of Sibella; for he has tacked together such a number of scraps and ends, that, with the aid of his colouring, make proofs as strong as proofs of holy writ.—Well, and if he does speak of me in this way to Mr. Valmont? The man suspected me before, and all he can now do is to clap another padlock on his caution.
There is something unmanly in Montgomery's conduct. With studied vehemence of lamentation he recanted his many many former insinuations of his constant security in Miss Valmont's favour; and, unless it was a preconcerted plan between them, (which I do not think possible) his voluntary resignation of her picture stamps him a contemptible——. My fingers had a kind of tremulous impulse towards the picture; yet I positively refused to accept it; a double dose of prudence this morning made some amends for its total absence last evening. 'Tis too true, Walter; I left the club again without a penny. The Earl will not be in town till next week; and till I am in cash I cannot invent or contrive a probable means of saving my friend Montgomery the disgrace of being mistaken.
This youth makes a rapid progress in the sciences. He was as completely inducted last night as your humble servant. His tutor, Janetta Laundy, also is most admirably chosen; and if Valmont deems that to be a dupe with a beggared purse, and shattered constitution, is the antidote against society, Montgomery is going the high road to answer all his wishes.
Your hint, dear knight, respecting Mrs. Ashburn, was not lost upon me; but, though I would not marry for aught but money, I should like to have a wife thrown into the bargain whom I could love now and then. I acknowledge the widow is as young as any woman (of her years) I ever saw in my life; and in wealth I should be an emperor. But indeed, Walter, I could ruin myself as effectually, I feel I could, I have all the laudable inclinations necessary thereto, with a large fortune as with a moderate one; and then age will come, and gout, and bile, and ill tempers, and no sweet remembrances of smiles, of dimpling cheeks, of melting eyes, to cheer me!—Were the widow once turned of eighty, the charms of youth and beauty should not tempt me from her.—As it is, I could like her daughter better.—Ah, but Miss Ashburn's is a searching eye! She would enquire for thy passport of virtue and morality, Filmar!
You perceive plainly, don't you, Walter, that I have no alternative but taking Sibella Valmont with her 7,000l. per annum? You have now seen her picture, tell me, is she not unequalled? And may I not sometimes, without any violent effort of self-denial, condescend to toy away an hour or two with (though my own wife) a creature so perfect? Walter! Walter! Could I drench in oblivion that youth with the flowing beard, I should be proud to acknowledge how often I dream of this little seducer!—As it certainly was not Montgomery, who could it be?—and why came he there? This interrogation is constantly served up with my breakfast, it even attends my undressing, and has been, not unfrequently, my bedfellow—The very quintessence of politeness, however, it never intrudes further than the door of the tavern or gaming-house. For the former, I now leave it and thee. Thine,
FILMAR
LETTER XVIII
FROM CAROLINE ASHBURN
TO
ARTHUR MURDEN
Can you, will you, my dear friend, undertake to rescue Sibella from the tyranny at present exercised over her? If you will, write me instantly three lines to London, where I am now returning. From that place I will relate the particulars of my visit to Valmont, which will also include my reasons for this request.—Now, I only write while I change horses at B——.