Barford Abbey Part 3

Vastly good, my Lord.--What, before he prays for himself?--_This_ shews your Lordship's _very_ high notions of grat.i.tude.

We have high notions of every thing.--Bucks and bloods, as we are call'd,--you may go to the devil before you will find a set of honester fellows.

To the _Devil_, my Lord!--That's true, I believe.

He was going to reply when the three choice spirits came up, and hurried him, away to the Tuns.

A word to _you_, Darcey.--Surely you are never serious in the ridiculous design.--Not offer yourself to Miss Warley, whilst she continues in that neighbourhood?--the very spot on which you ought to secure her,--unless you think all the young fellows who visit at the Abbey are blind, except yourself.--_Why_, you are jealous _already_;--_jealous_ of _Edmund_.--Perhaps _even I_ may become one of your tormentors.--If I like her I shall as certainly tell her _so, as_ that my name is

MOLESWORTH.

[Here two Letters are omitted, one from Lady MARY to Miss WARLEY,--and one from Miss WARLEY to Lady MARY.]

LETTER VIII.

Miss WARLEY to Lady MARY SUTTON.

From Mr. _Jenkings's_.

Ah! my dear Lady, how kind,--how inexpressibly kind, to promise I shall one day know what has put an end to the intimacy between the two Ladies I _so_ much revere.

To find your Ladyship has still a high opinion of Lady Powis, has filled me with pleasure.--Fear of the reverse often threw a damp on my heart, whilst receiving the most tender caresses.--You bid me love her!--You say I cannot love her too well!--_This_ is a command my heart springs forward to obey.

Unhappy family!--What a loss does it sustain by the absence of Mr.

Powis?--_No_, I can never forgive the Lady who has occasioned this source of sorrow.--Why is her name concealed?--But what would it benefit me to come at a knowledge of it?

Pity Sir James should rather see such a son _great_ than happy.--Six thousand a year, _yet_ covet a fortune twice as large!--Love of riches makes strange wreck in the human heart.

Why did Mr. Powis leave his native country?--The refusal of a Lady with whom he only sought an union in obedience to his father, could not _greatly_ affect him.--Was not such an overture _without_ affection,--_without_ inclination,--a blot in his fair character?--Certainly it was.--Your Ladyship seems to think Sir James only to blame.--I dare not have presumed to offer my opinion, had you not often told me, it betray'd a meanness to hide our real sentiments, when call'd upon to declare them.

Lady Powis yesterday obliged me with a sight of several letters from her son.--_I_ am not mistress of a stile like _his_, or your Ladyship would have been spar'd numberless tedious moments.--Such extraordinary deckings are seldom to be met with in common minds.

I told Lady Powis, last evening, that I should devote this day to my pen;--so I shall not be sent for;--a favour I am sure to have conferr'd if I am not at the Abbey soon after breakfast.--Lord Darcey is frequently my escort.--I am pleased to see that young n.o.bleman regard Edmund as if of equal rank with himself.

Heavens! his Lordship is here!--full-dressed, and just alighted from the coach,--to fetch me, I fear.--I shall know in a moment; Mrs. Jenkings is coming up.

Even so.--It vexes me to be thus taken off from my agreeable task;--yet I cannot excuse myself,--her Ladyship is importunate.--She sends me word I _must_ come;--that I _must_ return with Lord Darcey.--Mrs. Finch is accidentally dropp'd in with her son.--I knew the latter was expected to meet two gentlemen from Bath,--one of them an intimate friend of Lord Darcey.--Mrs. Finch is an amiable woman;--it is to her Lady Powis wants to introduce me.

_Your Servant, my Lord_.--A very genteel way to hasten me down--impatient, I suppose, to see his friend from Bath.--_Well_, Jenny, tell his Lordship it will be needless to have the horses taken out.--I shall be ready in a quarter of an hour.--Adieu, my dear Lady.

Eleven o'clock at night.

Every thing has conspired to make this day more than commonly agreeable.--It requires the pen of a Littelton to paint the different graces which shone in conversation.--As no such pen is at hand, will your Ladyship receive from _mine_ a short description of the company at the Abbey?

Mrs. Finch is about seven and forty;--her person plain,--her mind lovely,--her bosom fraught with happiness.--She dispenses it promiscuously.--Every smile,--every accent,--conveys it to all around her.--A countenance engagingly open.--Her purse too, I am told, when occasions offer, open as her heart.--How largely is she repaid for her balsamic gifts,--by seeing those virtues early planted in the mind of her son, spring up and shoot in a climate where a blight is almost contagious!

Mr. Finch is the most sedate young man I have ever seen;--but his sedateness is temper'd with a _sweetness_ inexpressible;--a certain mildness in the features;--_a mildness_ which, in the countenance of that great commander I saw at Brandon Lodge, appears like _mercy_ sent out from the heart to discover the dwelling of _true courage_.--There is certainly a strong likeness between the Marquis and Lord Darcey;--_so strong_, that when I first beheld his Lordship I was quite struck with surprize.

Mr. Molesworth and Mr. Bridgman, the two gentlemen from Bath, are very opposite to each other in person and manner; yet both in a different degree seem to be worthy members of society.

Mr. Molesworth, a most entertaining companion,--vastly chearful,--smart at repartee; and, from the character Lord Darcey has given me of him, very sincere.

Mr. Bridgman has a good deal the air of a foreigner; attained, I suppose, by his residence some years at the court of ----, in a public character.--Very fit he appears for such an employ.--Sensible,--remarkably polite,--speaks all languages with the same fluency as his own; but then a veil of disagreeable reserve throws a dark shade over those perfections.--_Perhaps_ I am wrong to spy out faults so early;--_perhaps_ to-morrow my opinion may be different.--First prepossessions--Ah! What would I have said of _first prepossessions?_--Is it not to them I owe a thousand blessings?--I, who have nothing to recommend me but being unfortunate.

Somthing lies at my heart.--Yet I think I could not sleep in quiet, was I to drop a hint in disfavour of Mr. Jenkings;--it may not be in his _disfavour_ neither:--However, my dear Lady, you shall be the judge, after I have repos'd a few hours.

Seven o'clock in the morning.

Why should I blame Mr. Jenkings?--Is not Edmund his only son?--his only child?--Is he less my friend for suspecting?--Yes, my Lady, I perceive he does _suspect_.--He is uneasy.--He supposes his son encouraging an improper affection.--I see it in his very looks:--he must think me an artful creature.--This it is that distresses me.--I wish I could hit on a method to set his heart at rest.--If I barely hint a design of leaving the neighbourhood, which I have done once or twice, he bursts into tears, and I am oblig'd to sooth him like a child.

How account for this behaviour?--Why does he look on me with the eye of fatherly affection,--yet think me capable of a meanness I _despise?_

I believe it impossible for a human being to have _more_ good nature, or _more_ good qualities, than Edmund; yet had he the riches of a Mogul, I could never think of a connection with him.--_He_, worthy young man, has never given his father cause for _suspicion_.--I am convinced he has not.--Naturally of an obliging disposition, he is ever on the watch for opportunities to gratify his amiable inclinations:--not _one_ such selfish motive as love to push him on.

A summons to breakfast.--Lord Darcey, it seems, is below;--I suppose, slid away from his friends to call on Edmund.--Mr. and Mrs. Jenkings are _all_ smiles, _all_ good humour, to their son,--I hope it is only I who have been _suspicious_.--Lord Darcey is still with Edmund.--They are at this moment under my window,--counselling perhaps, about a commission he wants his father to purchase for him in the Guards.--I should be glad to see this matter accommodated;--yet, I could wish, in _so_ tender a point, his Lordship may not be _too_ forward in advising.--Mr. and Mrs.

Jenkings have such an opinion of him,--they pay such deference to what he says,--his advice _must_ have weight;--and they _may_ be unhappy by giving up their inclinations.

The praises of Lord Darcey are forever sounding in my ears.--To what a height would the partiality of Mrs. Jenkings lift me?--She would have me think,--I cannot tell your Ladyship what she would _have me think_.--My hopes dare not take _such_ a flight.--No!--I can perceive what their fall _must_ be;--I can perceive _it_, without getting on the top of the precipice to look down.

I shall order every thing for my departure, according to your Ladyship's directions, holding myself in readiness to attend Mr. and Mrs. Smith, at the time proposed.

Oxfordshire I must revisit,--for a few days only;--having some little matters to regulate.

The silks I have purchas'd for your Ladyship are slight, as you directed, except a white and gold, which is the richest and most beautiful I could procure.

How imperceptibly time slides on?--The clock strikes eleven,--in spight of the desire I have of communicating many things more.--An engagement to be with Lady Powis at twelve hastens me to conclude myself

Your Ladyship's

Most honour'd and affectionate,

F. WARLEY.

LETTER IX.

The Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH to LORD DARCEY.

_Bath_.