Barford Abbey, a Novel: In a Series of Letters

by Mrs. Gunning

LETTER XVI.

Miss WARLEY to Lady MARY SUTTON.

Barford Abbey.

Once more, my dear Lady, I dispatch a packet from this place,—after bidding adieu to the agreeable Dean,—Brandon Lodge,—and my friends in that neighbourhood.

How long I shall continue here, God only knows.—If my wishes could avail, the time would be short; very short, indeed.—I am quite out of patience with Mr. and Mrs. Smith; some delay every time I hear from them.—First, we were to embark the middle of this month;—then the latter end;—now it is put off till the beginning of the next:—perhaps, when I hear next, it will be, they do not go at all.—Such weak resolutions are never to be depended on;—a straw, like a magnet, will draw them from side to side.

I think I am as much an inhabitant of this house as of Mr. Jenkings's:—I lay here last night after my journey, and shall dine here this day; but as a great deal of company is expected, must go to my other home to dress.—To-morrow your Ladyship shall command me.

From Mr. Jenkings's.

Rejoice with me, my dear Lady.—You will rejoice, I know, you will. to find my eyes are open to my folly.—How could I be so vain; so presumptuous!—Yes, it must be vanity, it must be presumption to the highest,—gloss it over as I will,—to harbour thoughts which before this your Ladyship is acquainted with.—Did you not blush for me?—did you not in contempt throw aside my letter?—Undoubtedly you did.—Go, you said.—I am sure, dear Madam, you must let me not again behold the weakness of that poor silly girl.—But this is my hope, you are not apt to judge unfavourably, even in circumstances that will scarce admit of palliation.—Tell me, my dear Lady, I am pardoned; tell me so, and I shall never be again unhappy.—How charming, to have peace and tranquility restor'd, when I fear'd they were for ever banish'd my breast!—I welcomed the friends;—my heart bounded at their return;—I smiled on them;—soothed them;—and promised never more to drive them out.

Thank you, Lord Allen;—again, I thank you:—can I ever be too grateful?—You have been instrumental to my repose.