I can only say, that if Fitzgerald had visited a handsome rich French widow, and staid with her ten days téte à téte in the country, without my permission—
O Heavens! here is mon cher pere: I must hide my letter.
Bon soir.
LETTER LXXXV.89.
To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Quebec, March 6.
I cannot account, my dear, for what has happened to me. I left Madame Des Roches’s full of the warm impatience of love, and flew to my Emily at Silleri: I was received with a disdainful coldness which I did not think had been in her nature, and which has shocked me beyond all expression.
I went again to-day, and met with the same reception; I even saw my presence was painful to her, therefore shortened my visit, and, if I have resolution to persevere, will not go again till invited by Captain Fermor in form.
I could bear any thing but to lose her affection; my whole heart was set upon her: I had every reason to believe myself dear to her. Can caprice find a place in that bosom which is the abode of every virtue?
I must have been misrepresented to her, or surely this could not have happened: I will wait to-morrow, and if I hear nothing will write to her, and ask an explanation by letter; she refused me a verbal one to-day, though I begged to speak with her only for a moment.