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

by Frances Chamberlaine Sheridan

I was startled at the question, and not replying immediately, You must marry him, said he in a peremptory tone; there is nothing now to hinder you; the heavy misfortune which has fallen upon him, puts it in your power to make him such a return as his prosperous days would not have allowed you. You can confer an obligation on him now; so that scruple is rubbed out. As for any former idle aspersions, you have already done more than enough to convince the world they were without foundation. I could wish indeed that Jezebel of a wife had been cut off in the common way; but since he was guiltless in his intentions, it would be barbarous to make that an objection, and I dare answer for it, all mankind will acquit him, though the law perhaps may not, of that scoundrel’s death, who so well deserved it at his hands.

I told Mr Warner, that though Mr Faulkland had proposed something like this, I was sure it was owing to his distracted mind, for that he had at first declared he only came to take a last look at me, and that I hoped, when he came to the cool use of his reason, he would be far from urging such a request—The more are you bound then, said he, interrupting me, to deal generously by him.—What does your brother say upon the subject? He has not touched upon it, I replied, I was so taken up with hearing Mr Faulkland’s melancholy story from my brother, that I mentioned not to him his wild proposal; and as Sir George told me Mr Faulkland was much more composed when he left him to his rest, I presume he hinted nothing of that kind to my brother.

Ay, ay, cried Mr Warner, Sir George to be sure will change his note. Mr Faulkland is now a fallen man, therefore depend on it he will not be for your marrying him; but for this very reason, I insist on your doing a noble thing. If you have a grain of honour, or of gratitude in you, you will not hesitate a moment. I will not desire you, continued he, finding me silent, to carry your gratitude so far as to marry a madman, if he should prove to be so; but if on your visit to him this morning, you find him composed, and in his right mind, make him a frank offer of your hand, and see you do it handsomely; consult not George, upon the subject, I will have it all my doing. Go, added he, if I did not know that at the bottom of your heart you love Faulkland, I would not make this a point with you; but notwithstanding all your pretended demurs I am sure that is the case.

I should be disingenuous to deny it, answered I; far from doing so, I will own that I should prefer him before all the world, if the strangeness of his present situation did not frighten me. Trouble not your head about that, cried Mr Warner, if the man is in his senses, do as I bid you, and take care that you acquit yourself with honour.

He left me without waiting for a reply. What can I say or do, my Cecilia? My heart and my reason are at variance. What a strange dilemma am I driven to? nobody to advise me. Mr Warner, precipitate and fanciful in his determinations, urges me on to I know not what. Marry Mr Faulkland! receive a hand stained with—Oh the very thought is terrible!

What would the world say to such an union? It cannot be. He will not sure when he comes to the use of his cooler reason insist upon a promise, which my own terror, and his desperation, extorted from me.

I must try to convince Mr Warner’s judgment? I hope he will not obstinately persist in pressing me to what I dare not comply with.... My brother is just come to carry me to Mr Faulkland. Heaven grant I may find him restored to his right mind!... Just returned from my visit to Mr Faulkland. What a scene! He wrung my very heart. I would I had never seen him.

We found him up, and walking about his room; his looks much more composed than they were last night.

On our entering his chamber, his eyes sparkled with pleasure. He ran to my brother, and embraced him. Thank you my dear, dear Bidulph, said he, you at length give her to me, and with her own consent too. My bride! turning passionately to me, and snatching my hand.

My brother seemed shocked, and cast his eyes mournfully at me: mine moistened, and I was obliged to apply my handkerchief to them, turning my head away.