I honour him for the tender regard he shews her:—yes, I go further; he and Mr. Watson may love her;—they do love her, and glory in declaring it.—I love them in return;—but they are the only two, of all the race of batchelors within my knowledge, that should make such a declaration with impunity.
Let me see: I shall be in London Saturday evening;—Sunday, no post;—Monday, then I determine to write to Sir James;—Wednesday, I may have an answer;—Thursday,—who knows but Thursday!—nothing is impossible; who knows but Thursday I may return to all my hopes?—How much I resemble a shuttlecock! how am I thrown from side to side by hope and fear; now up, now down; no sooner mounted by one hand than lower'd by another!
This moment a gleam of comfort steals sweetly through my heart;—but it is gone even before I could bid it welcome.—Why so fast!—to what spot is it fled?—Can there be a wretch more in need, who calls louder for its charitable ray than
DARCEY.
LETTER XXII.
Miss WARLEY to Lady MARY SUTTON
From Mr. Jenkings's
Now, my dear Lady, the time is absolutely fix'd for our embarkation; the 22d, without fail.—Mr. Smith intends coming himself, to accompany me to London.—How very good and obliging this!—I shall say nothing of it to Lady Powis, till Lord Darcey is gone, which will be Saturday:—he may go to France, if he pleases, but not with me.—