Memoirs of Miss Sidney Biddulph / Extracted from her own Journal, and now first published

by Frances Chamberlaine Sheridan

My lord and I read Mrs Gerrarde’s letter together; we were both curious to see it, Mr Faulkland having mentioned it in his correspondence. Mr Arnold, said I, returning it to him, without any such proof as this, I believe nobody that knows your lady would think her guilty; nor could I ever entertain so bad an opinion of Mr Faulkland: I have known him from his boyish days, and never had reason to believe him capable of a dishonourable action.

I believe him innocent, as to this, answered Mr Arnold, but you cannot conceive the pains that were taken by that vile woman to make me think otherwise; neither would her retracting all she said now work so much on me, as other corroborating circumstances: her running away with the very man, of whom she raised my jealousy, after having plundered me of almost every thing I had to bestow, does not look like a sudden resolution: the scheme must have been concerted for some time, and Faulkland, I suppose, was her paramour, at the very time she so basely slandered Mrs Arnold; for I am not so blind, even to the personal charms of my wife, as to imagine the greatest inconstant would grow tired of her in so short a time.

Why, I must own, said my lord, that is a natural inference, which, joined to the perfidy and falshood of Mrs Gerrarde, puts it out of dispute, that she traduced Mr Faulkland and your wife, merely to gain her own wicked ends; one part of which I am inclined to think she confesses in her letter; that is to say, to have you intirely in her own hands, though not for the reason she there gives. Her other motive, I think, now plainly appears by the consequence: she thought, if you were jealous of your wife, you would hardly suspect her with the same person, whose visits, to my knowlege, were pretty frequent at her house. Then, said I, (throwing my weight into the scale) the unobjectionable character of Mrs Arnold, her pious education, her modest and affectionate behaviour to you for so long a time, and the recluse life that she had led with her mother since you parted, makes the thought of any ill in her quite incredible.

Lady V——, said your husband, impatiently, I am as conscious of it all as you can possibly wish me. I know I am a blind infatuated monster: What can you say more? Faulkland, I thank you for ridding me of such a pest; Oh! that you had taken her before I was so curst as to see her face! If you had, I should not now be the undone wretch I am! My lord, my lady, will you do me the favour to tell my wife and lady Bidulph, how contrite I am (and he laid his hand on his breast): while I had any thing to offer her besides repentance, I could have thrown myself at her feet for pardon, and conjured her to have returned to my bosom, and to her own deserted house, from whence my madness drove her; but I have now no house to bring her to, and do not desire even to see her face.

His manner was so vehement, that I really feared the agitations of his mind might disorder his brain. My lord told him he was too desponding, and said, he hoped all might be yet retrieved. He then enquired into the particular situation of his affairs, which are, I am grieved to say it, very bad indeed. We were told, when we were in Kent, that a part of South-Park was mortgaged, but did not believe it, as we knew it was settled on you. Upon being asked, Mr Arnold himself acknowleged it, confessing at the same time, that he had been prevailed on to do this, in order to deliver Mrs Gerrarde’s brother out of gaol, and that it was the other villainous brother who had transacted the affair for him. I find, besides this mortgage, that, with the costs of his suit, he owes near seven thousand pounds; to answer which, he says, he is not worth six-pence, his plate and the furniture of his houses in town and country excepted.

Though I had shed many tears, whilst Lady V—— was describing Mr Arnold’s behaviour at the beginning of her discourse, I heard this latter part of her account with a composed attention.

Lady V—— took me by the hand: I am sorry, dear Mrs Arnold, said she, that I am obliged to repeat such uncomfortable tidings to you, but you must know all, soon or late, and it as well now as hereafter. I am sure your patient temper and good sense will enable you to bear up against misfortunes.

My lord then proceeded to ask Mr Arnold, if his friends could make his circumstances a little easier, and Mrs Arnold would consent to live with him again, had he any objection to it?

My lord, answered your husband, from the moment I heard of Mrs Gerrarde’s elopement, I flattered myself with the hopes of being restored to my senses, and my peace, by a reunion with my wife; for I own to you, her innocence from that very time became evident to me, and it was mere shame that prevented me from making my application to lady Bidulph, for the purpose of a reconciliation. The receipt of Mrs Gerrarde’s letter—(whether the wretch has really felt compunction or whether her cruelty to me, in order to make me more unhappy, has drawn it from her I know not) the receipt of that letter, I say, wherein Mrs Arnold’s innocence is so entirely cleared, convinced me, I ought not to delay making my wife all the reparation in my power. Though I was shocked to think how much I had foolishly squandered away, I was still in possession of an estate of nine hundred pounds a year; for though it was then in litigation, my lawyers amused me to the last, with a belief that I should carry my suit; and notwithstanding that the payment of my debts would lessen it, I knew, with one of her contented and gentle spirit, it would be sufficient to make us happy, and her jointure (which I hoped soon to clear) added to it, would enable us to sit down in the country in tolerable affluence, and I had come to a resolution to make it the study of my life to render Mrs Arnold happy. I know she is an admirable œconomist; I resolved to imitate her, and hoped in time to retrieve our circumstances. These were my sentiments, my lord, when I wrote to you, to beg that you and my lady would come to town. I own I had not courage enough to make any efforts towards the so much wished-for reunion, without the interposition of friends, whose good hearts I knew would rejoice, could their endeavours bring it about, and whose influence over Mrs Arnold I was certain would make the accomplishment easy. Do me the justice, my lord, to believe, that if I had not thought it in my power, to have made Mrs Arnold amends for the injuries I have done her, this hand should have been sooner employed to send a bullet thro’ my head, than to have endeavoured to procure your mediation in this affair.

But as things have turned out, I would not for this earthly globe involve her in my ruin; nor shall her family have it to say, I sought their friendship when I was abandoned of every other hope.