“My circumstances! What circumstances, ma’am?”
“Have you forgotten Miss Sidney?”
“By no means, ma’am,” said Vivian, colouring deeply; “Mrs. Wharton is well apprized, and was, from the first moment of our friendship, clearly informed of my——engagements with Miss Sidney.”
“And how do they agree with your attachment to Mrs. Wharton?”
“Perfectly well, ma’am—Mrs. Wharton understands all that perfectly well, ma’am.”
“And Miss Sidney! do you think she will understand it?—and is it not extraordinary that I should think more of her feelings than you do?”
At these questions Vivian became so angry, that he was incapable of listening farther to reason, or to the best advice, even from a mother, for whom he had the highest respect. The mother and son parted with feelings of mutual dissatisfaction.
Vivian, from that spirit of opposition so often seen in weak characters, went immediately from his mother’s lecture to a party at Mrs. Wharton’s. Lady Mary, in the mean time, sat down to write to Miss Sidney. Whatever reluctance she had originally felt to her son’s marriage with this young lady, it must be repeated, to her ladyship’s credit, that Selina’s honourable and disinterested conduct had won her entire approbation. She wrote, therefore, in the strongest terms to press the immediate conclusion of that match, which she now considered as the only chance of securing her son’s morals and happiness. Her letter concluded with these words:—“I shall expect you in town directly. Do not, my dear, let any idle scruples prevent you from coming to my house. Consider that my happiness, your own, and my son’s, depend upon your compliance. I am persuaded, that the moment he sees you, the moment you exert your power over him, he will be himself again. But, believe me, I know the young men of the present day better than you do: their constancy is not proof against absence. If he lose the habit of seeing and conversing with you, I cannot answer for the rest.—Adieu! I am so much harassed by my own thoughts, and by the reports I hear, that I scarcely know what I write. Pray come immediately, my dear Selina, that I may talk to you of many subjects on which I don’t like to trust myself to write. My feelings have been too long repressed.—I must unburden my heart to you. You only can console and assist me; and, independently of all other considerations, you owe to my friendship for you, Selina, not to refuse this first request I ever made you.—Farewell! I shall expect to see you as soon as possible.
“Yours, &c.
“MARY VIVIAN.”