We have had another visit from Lady Beauchamp, and have returned it. She is very much pleased with us: You see I say us. Indeed my two dear ladies are very good to me; but I have no merit: it is all for their brother's sake.
Mr. Beauchamp tells us, just now, that his mother-in-law has joined with his father, at her own motion, to settle 1000£. a year upon him. I am glad of it, with all my heart: Are not you? He is all gratitude upon it. He says, that he will redouble his endeavours to oblige her; and that his gratitude to her, as well as his duty to his father, will engage his utmost regard for her.
Mr. Beauchamp, Sir Harry himself, and my lady, are continually blessing my guardian: Every body, in short, blesses him.—But, ah! madam, where is he, at this moment? O that I were a bird! that I might hover over his head, and sometimes bring tidings to his friends of his motions and good deeds. I would often flap my wings, dear Miss Byron, at your chamber window, as a signal of his welfare, and then fly back again, and perch as near him as I could.
I am very happy, as I said before, in the favour of Lady and Lord L——, and Lady and Lord G——; but I never shall be so happy, as when I had the addition of your charming company. I miss you and my guardian: O, how I miss you both! But, dearest Miss Byron, love me not the less, though now I have put pen to paper, and you see what a poor creature I am in my writing. Many a one, I believe, may be thought tolerable in conversation; but when they are so silly as to put pen to paper, they expose themselves; as I have done, in this long piece of scribble. But accept it, nevertheless, for the true love I bear you; and a truer love never flamed in any bosom, to any one the most dearly beloved, than does in mine for you.
I am afraid I have written arrant nonsense, because I knew not how to express half the love that is in the heart of
Your ever-obliged and affectionate
EMILY JERVOIS.
LETTER XXXIX
MISS BYRON, TO LADY G—— TUESDAY, MAY 2.
I have no patience with you, Lady G——. You are ungenerously playful! Thank Heaven, if this be wit, that I have none of it. But what signifies expostulating with one who knows herself to be faulty, and will not amend? How many stripes, Charlotte, do you deserve?—But you never spared any body, not even your brother, when the humour was upon you. So make haste; and since you will lay in stores for repentance, fill up your measure as fast as you can.
'Reveal to you the state of my heart!'—Ah, my dear! it is an unmanageable one. 'Greatness of mind!'—I don't know what it is!—All his excellencies, his greatness, his goodness, his modesty, his cheerfulness under such afflictions as would weigh down every other heart that had but half the compassion in it with which his overflows—Must not all other men appear little, and, less than little, nothing, in my eyes? —It is an instance of patience in me, that I can endure any of them who pretend to regard me out of my own family.