"On various pretences, his friend continued to viſit me; and, obſerving my want of money, he tried to induce me to accept of pecuniary aid; but this offer I abſolutely rejected, though it was made with ſuch delicacy, I could not be diſpleaſed.
"One day he came, as I thought accidentally, to dinner. My huſband was very much engaged in buſineſs, and quitted the room ſoon after the cloth was removed. We converſed as uſual, till confidential advice led again to love. I was extremely mortified. I had a ſincere regard for him, and hoped that he had an equal friendſhip for me. I therefore began mildly to expoſtulate with him. This gentleneſs he miſtook for coy encouragement; and he would not be diverted from the ſubject. Perceiving his miſtake, I ſeriouſly aſked him how, uſing ſuch language to me, he could profeſs to be my huſband's friend? A ſignificant ſneer excited my curioſity, and he, ſuppoſing this to be my only ſcruple, took a letter deliberately out of his pocket, ſaying, 'Your huſband's honour is not inflexible. How could you, with your diſcernment, think it ſo? Why, he left the room this very day on purpoſe to give me an opportunity to explain myſelf; he thought me too timid—too tardy.'
"I ſnatched the letter with indeſcribable emotion. The purport of it was to invite him to dinner, and to ridicule his chivalrous reſpect for me. He aſſured him, 'that every woman had her price, and, with groſs indecency, hinted, that he ſhould be glad to have the duty of a huſband taken off his hands. Theſe he termed liberal ſentiments. He adviſed him not to ſhock my romantic notions, but to attack my credulous generoſity, and weak pity; and concluded with requeſting him to lend him five hundred pounds for a month or ſix weeks.' I read this letter twice over; and the firm purpoſe it inſpired, calmed the riſing tumult of my ſoul. I roſe deliberately, requeſted Mr. S—— to wait a moment, and inſtantly going into the counting-houſe, deſired Mr. Venables to return with me to the dining-parlour.
"He laid down his pen, and entered with me, without obſerving any change in my countenance. I ſhut the door, and, giving him the letter, ſimply aſked, 'whether he wrote it, or was it a forgery?'
"Nothing could equal his confuſion. His friend's eye met his, and he muttered ſomething about a joke—But I interrupted him—'It is ſufficient—We part for ever.'
"I continued, with ſolemnity, 'I have borne with your tyranny and infidelities. I diſdain to utter what I have borne with. I thought you unprincipled, but not ſo decidedly vicious. I formed a tie, in the ſight of heaven—I have held it ſacred; even when men, more conformable to my taſte, have made me feel—I deſpiſe all ſubterfuge!—that I was not dead to love. Neglected by you, I have reſolutely ſtifled the enticing emotions, and reſpected the plighted faith you outraged. And you dare now to inſult me, by ſelling me to proſtitution!—Yes—equally loſt to delicacy and principle—you dared ſacrilegiouſly to barter the honour of the mother of your child.'
"Then, turning to Mr. S——, I added, 'I call on you, Sir, to witneſs,' and I lifted my hands and eyes to heaven, 'that, as ſolemnly as I took his name, I now abjure it,' I pulled off my ring, and put it on the table; 'and that I mean immediately to quit his houſe, never to enter it more. I will provide for myſelf and child. I leave him as free as I am determined to be myſelf—he ſhall be anſwerable for no debts of mine.'
"Aſtoniſhment cloſed their lips, till Mr. Venables, gently puſhing his friend, with a forced ſmile, out of the room, nature for a moment prevailed, and, appearing like himſelf, he turned round, burning with rage, to me: but there was no terror in the frown, excepting when contraſted with the malignant ſmile which preceded it. He bade me 'leave the houſe at my peril; told me he deſpiſed my threats; I had no reſource; I could not ſwear the peace againſt him!—I was not afraid of my life!—he had never ſtruck me!'
"He threw the letter in the fire, which I had incautiouſly left in his hands; and, quitting the room, locked the door on me.
"When left alone, I was a moment or two before I could recollect myſelf. One ſcene had ſucceeded another with ſuch rapidity, I almoſt doubted whether I was reflecting on a real event. 'Was it poſſible? Was I, indeed, free?'—Yes; free I termed myſelf, when I decidedly perceived the conduct I ought to adopt. How had I panted for liberty—liberty, that I would have purchaſed at any price, but that of my own eſteem! I roſe, and ſhook myſelf; opened the window, and methought the air never ſmelled ſo ſweet. The face of heaven grew fairer as I viewed it, and the clouds ſeemed to flit away obedient to my wiſhes, to give my ſoul room to expand. I was all ſoul, and (wild as it may appear) felt as if I could have diſſolved in the ſoft balmy gale that kiſſed my cheek, or have glided below the horizon on the glowing, deſcending beams. A ſeraphic ſatiſfaction animated, without agitating my ſpirits; and my imagination collected, in viſions ſublimely terrible, or ſoothingly beautiful, an immenſe variety of the endleſs images, which nature affords, and fancy combines, of the grand and fair. The luſtre of theſe bright pictureſque ſketches faded with the ſetting ſun; but I was ſtill alive to the calm delight they had diffuſed through my heart.
