Since I sent away my letter, I have your last.
You tell me, my dear Rivers, the strong emotion I betrayed at seeing Sir George, when you came together to Montreal, made you fear I loved him; that you were jealous of the blush which glowed on my cheek, when he entered the room: that you still remember it with regret; that you still fancy I had once some degree of tenderness for him, and beg me to account for the apparent confusion I betrayed at his sight.
I own that emotion; my confusion was indeed too great to be concealed: but was he alone, my Rivers? can you forget that he had with him the most lovely of mankind?
Sir George was handsome; I have often regarded his person with admiration, but it was the admiration we give to a statue.
I listened coldly to his love, I felt no emotion at his sight; but when you appeared, my heart beat, I blushed, I turned pale by turns, my eyes assumed a new softness, I trembled, and every pulse confessed the master of my soul.
My friends are come: I am called down. Adieu! Be assured your Emily never breathed a sigh but for her Rivers!
Adieu! Yours,
Emily Montague.
LETTER CLXXXII.186.
To Colonel Rivers, at Bellfield, Rutland.
London, Sept. 18.