brought privately to me. I went in it, and it carried me to Soho; and there, on my knees, made my present to my mother. But do you think, sir, that she and Mr O'Hara, when I confessed that I had not consulted you upon it, and that neither Lady L-, nor Lady G- nor yet Mrs Eleanor Grandison, knew a syllable of the matter, would accept of it? They would not: But yet they both cried over me for joy, and blessed me. It is put up somewhere-And there it lies, till I have obtained your pardon first, and your direction afterwards. And what shall I do, if you are angry at your poor ward, who has done so inconsiderate a thing, and run herself into debt? Chide me, honoured sir, if you please. Indeed you never yet did chide me. But yours will be chidings of love; of paternal love, sir. But if you are angry with me more than a day; if you give me reason to believe you think meanly of me, though, alas! I may deserve it; and that this rashness is but a prelude to other rash or conceited steps, (for that is the fear which most terrifies me,) and is therefore to be resented with severity; then will I fly to my dear Miss Byron, that now is !—And if she cannot soften your displeasure, and restore me to your good opinion (Mere pardon will not be enough for your truly penitent ward)-then will I say, Burst, heart! Ungrateful, inconsiderate Emily, thou hast offended thy guardian! What is there left in this life, that is worthy thy cares? And now, sir, I have laid my troubled heart open before you. I know you will not so much blame the thing, even should you not approve of it, as the manner; doing it (after you had been so extremely generous and considerate to my mother) without consulting either you or your sisters. O my vanity and conceit! They, they, have misled me. They never shall again, whether you forgive me, or not. But, good, indulgent, honoured sir, my guardian, my protector, let not my punishment be the reversing of the gracious grant which my heart has been so long wishing to obtain, and which you had consented to, of being allowed to live immediately in your own eye, and in the presence of my dear Miss Byron, that now is. This rash action should rather induce you to confirm than reverse it. And I promise to be very good. I ever loved her. I shall add filial honour, as I may say, to my love of her. I never will do anything without consulting her; and but what you, the kindest guardian that ever poor orphan had, would wish me to do. And now, sir, honour me with a few lines from your own hand; were it but to shew me that this impertinence has not so far tried you, as (should you think it just to banish me from your presence for some time) to make you dis courage applications to you, by pen and ink, from, sir, Your truly sorrowful ward, LETTER CCXXXIX. SIR CHARLES GRANDISON TO MISS JERVOIS. Wednesday, Nov. 1. I WRITE to the dear child of my tenderest cares, because she requests me to write: else I had hastened to her in person, to comfort her doubting heart; and to assure her, that nothing but a fault premeditated, and persisted in, that might have affected her present or future reputation, and consequently her happiness, could make me, for half an hour, offended with her. Your good intentions, my dear child, will ever be your security with me. Men, as well as women, are often misled by their love of surprises: But the greatest surprise my Emily could give me, would be, if she could do any one thing that would shew a faulty heart. Once more, my dear, pay your duty to your mother, in the chariot which has been the causeless occasion of so much concern to you; and tell her, and Mr O'Hara, that they have greatly obliged me in declining the acceptance of the chariot, so dutifully presented, till they knew my mind: But that, not so much in the compliment paid to me as your guardian, as because it has given me an opinion of their own generosity and discretion. Tell them, that I greatly approve of this instance of your duty to your mother, and of your regard, for her sake, to Mr O'Hara: Tell them, that I join with my everamiable ward in requesting their acceptance of it; and do you, my dear, tell Miss Jervois, that I greatly honour her for this new instance of the goodness of her heart. I enclose a note, and will, to make you easy, carry it to its proper account, that will enable you to pay the debt which you, with so dutiful an intention, have contracted. Forgive you, my dear! I love, I admire you for it. I will not have you stint yourself, as you call it, in order to contribute to the future expense of the chariot. The present is but a handsome one, respecting your fortune. Be therefore, for your mother's life, the whole expense yours; and it may possibly contribute not a little to the ease of mind of both, (as they now live together not unhappily,) if you have the goodness to assure Mr O'Hara, that you are so well satisfied with his kind treatment of your mother, that you will, on supposition of the continuance of it, before you enter into engagements, which may limit your own power, or make your will dependent on that of another person, secure a handsome provision for him, for his life, in case he survive your mother. I thank you, my dearest ward, for the affection you express for my beloved Miss Byron. She loves you so tenderly, that it would have been a concern to me, had she not engaged your love and confidence. You highly oblige me by promising to consult her on all material occasions. The benefit you will receive from her prudent advice and example, and the delight she will receive from your company, will be a happiness to all three. My Emily may depend upon everything to make it completely so, that shall be in the power of Her faithful friend, and servant, LETTER CCXL. MISS JERVOIS TO SIR CHARLES GRANDISON. Thursday, Nov. 2. A FEW lines, sir; a very few-Not to shew my vanity, my pride, in being allowed to write to my guardian; not to presume to draw him into an intercourse of letters. No, sir, I write only to thank you, which I do a thousand, thousand times, for the ease, the joy, you have given to my heart. O how I dreaded to open your letter! But I could not have expected it to be so very indulgent to a faulty girl. Not one rebuke! Oh, sir! how very good you are! And to send me the money to clear my debts! To bid me make my present! In so gracious a manner to bid me! And to put me upon promising a provision for life for Mr O'Hara, if he survive my mother; which will prevent their thinking themselves obliged to live more narrowly while they are together, in order to save, in view of such an unhappy event!-I flew to them with the good news-I read the whole letter to them. O how their hearts blessed you at their eyes, for they could not presently speak; and how my tears mingled with theirs! O sir, you made us all infants:—I, for my part, am still a baby!— Did I ever cry so much for grief, as you have made me cry for joy?—It is well something now and then comes to check one's joy; there would be no bearing it, else. But I shall encroach on your precious time. Thank you, thank you, sir, a hundred thousand times. My mother is happy, Mr O'Hara is happy! My Miss Byron will soon be the happiest of all human beings, thank God !-You, my guardian, must be one of the happiest of men! May everybody else be happy that you wish to be so! and then how happy will be, good sir, Your dutiful ward, and obliged servant, They say you set out for Northamptonshire next Monday or Tuesday, at farthest. Lord bless me! Lord bless you! I would say-And bless everybody you love!-Amen!—for ever and ever! LETTER CCXLI. MISS BYRON TO LADY G Thursday, Nov. 2. I HAVE laid before you, my dear Lady G—————, the letters of your brother and Signor Jeronymo; as also my answer to that of your brother: My spirits never were so unequal. All joy at one time; apprehension at another; that something will still happen,-Greville is reported to be so gloomy, so silent! He hates me, he says. -And here, unexpectedly, is poor Mr Orme returned. Amended in his health a little, those who have seen him say, and he thinks so-I am glad of it. And here are we sitting in judgment, my aunt Lady-president, on the patterns you have sent: My uncle too will have his opinion be taken-And Mr Deane, who threatened he would not come to Selby-House till the settlements were to be signed, or read-I cannot tell what-will be here on Saturday. MR ORME has desired leave to visit me to morrow. My uncle so hurries my spirits; not with his raillery, as he used to do but with his joy. He talks of nothing but the coming down of your brother, and the limited three days after; and numbers the days, nay, the hours, as they fly: For he supposes Sir Charles will be here on Monday, at farthest; and calls that a delay of particular grace and favour to me. For has he not told you, said he, that nothing after Friday can, on his part, detain him from us? But, Lady G- will he not write to my last before he comes? Say my uncle what he pleases, your brother can't be down before Saturday se'ennight, at soonest. Your fancy and Lady L -'s determine us. My aunt has undertaken this province: She therefore will write to you what she thinks fit. Is there not too much glare in the flowered silver, as you describe it? Don't, my dear, let me be a bride in a masquerade habit. Humility becomes persons of some degree. We want not glare: We are known to be able to afford rich dresses-need them not, therefore, to give us consequence: Simplicity only can be elegance. Let me not be gaudy: Let not fancy, or art, or study, be seen in my dresses. Something must be done, I grant, on our appearance; for an appearance we must not dispense with here in the country, whatever you people of quality may do in town. But let me not, I beseech you, or as little as possible, be marked out for a lustre; and be so good as to throw in a hint to this pur pose to the dear busy girls here, as from your selves; for they are exercising their fancies, as if I were to be a Queen of the May. Your authorities will support me, if they give me cause to differ in opinion from them. I was strangely struck with these last words; for my spirits were not high before. I repeated them; I dwelt upon them, and wept.-Fool that I was! But I soon recollected myself; and desired Miss Orme not to take notice of my tender folly. MISS ORME has just been with me. She confirms her brother's amendment. She is sorry that his impatience has brought him over, when the climate was so favourable to him. She says, I shall find him sincerely disposed to congratulate me on my happy prospect; of which she has given him ample particulars. He could not, she says, but express himself pleased, that neither Fenwick nor Greville, but that one of so superior a character, is to be the man. What greater felicity can a young creature propose to herself, in the days of courtship, than to find every one in her family, and out of it, applauding her choice? Could I, a few weeks ago, have thought-But hushed be vanity! Pride, withdraw! Meek-eyed Humility, stand forth!-Am I indeed to be the happiest of women? Will nothing happen-O no, no! Heaven will protect your brother-Yet this Greville is a trouble to me. Not because of my horrid dream; I am not so superstitious as to let them disturb me: But from a hint he gave Miss Orme. She met him this morning at a neighbouring lady's. He thus accosted her: I understand, madam, that your brother is returned. He is a happy man. Just in time to see Miss Byron married. Fenwick, a dog! is gone to howl at Carlisle, on the occasion. Your brother, Miss Orme, and I, have nothing to do but howl in recitative, to each other, here. My brother, Mr Greville, answered Miss Orme, I am sure will behave like a man on the occasion: nor can you have reason to howl, as you call it. Sir Charles Grandison is your particular friend, you know. True, Miss Orme, affecting to laugh off this hit, I thought I could have braved it out; but now the matter comes near, it sticks here, just here, pointing to his throat: I cannot get it through my gizzard. Plaguy hard of digestion! making faces, in his light way. But will your brother, proceeded he, be contented to stay within the noise of the bells, which will (in a few days perhaps) be set aringing, for ten miles round! Sir Charles drives on at a d-nable rate, I hear. But he must let me die decently, I can tell him: we will not part for ever with the flower of our county, without conditions. Shall you see the siren, madam? If you do, tell her, that I have no chance for peace, but in hating her heartily. But (whispering Miss Orme) bid her NOT TO BE TOO SECURE. Friday. I HAVE had a visit from Mr Orme. He has given me some pleasure. I added not to his melancholy. He asked me several interesting questions, which I would not have answered any other man, as I told him. I shall always value Mr Orme. Your brother is the most generous of men but were he not so very generous, he ought to allow for my civility to this worthy man; since I can applaud him, with my whole heart, for loving the noble Clementina. What a narrow-hearted creature must I be, if I did not? -But as a woman's honour is of a more delicate nature, I believe, than a man's, with regard to personal love; so, perhaps, if this be allowed me, a man may be as jealous of a woman's civility, (in general cases, I mean,) as a woman may be of a man's love to another object. This may sound strange, at first hearing, Lady G, but I know what I mean.-Nobody else does, Harriet, perhaps you will say.-But they would, I reply, if I were to explain myself; which, at present, if you apprehend me not, I have no inclination to do. How did this worthy man praise Sir Charles Grandison! He must see that my pride; no, not pride, my gratitude, was raised by it, as well to the praiser as praised. He concluded with a blessing on us both, which he uttered in a different manner from what that Balaam-Greville uttered his: it was followed with tears, good man! and he left me almost unable to speak. How grateful in our ears are the praises bestowed on those whom we fondly love! Lucy thinks I had best go to my grandmamma's before he comes down; and that he should visit me there from Selby-House. Neither my aunt nor I am of this opinion: but that he should himself go to Shirley-Manor, and visit us from thence. For is not Selby-House my usual place of residence? My grandmamma will be delighted with his company and conversation. But as he cannot think of coming down before the latter end of next week, at the soonest, it is time enough to consider of these things. Yet can a young creature, the awful solemnity so near, and with a man whom she prefers to all others, find room in her head for any other topic? I have a letter from my good Mrs Reeves. She and my cousin are so full of this agreeable subject, that they invite themselves down to us; and hope we will excuse them for their earnestness on this occasion. They are prodigiously earnest. I wonder my cousin can think of leaving her little boy. My aunt says, there is no deny ing them. How so?-Surely one may excuse Your grateful and most affectionate HARRIET BYRON. attend you with them. Allow me, then, to do myself the honour of presenting myself before you at Selby-House, on Tuesday next. I will leave it to you to distinguish the happiest day of my life, whether within the succeeding three, four, five, or even six, of my return. If I have not your commands to the contrary, Tuesday morning then, if not Monday night, shall present to you the most ardent and sincere of men, pouring out on your hand his grateful vows for the invaluable favour of Wednesday's date, which I considered in the sacred light of a plighted love; and, as such, have given it a place next my heart. My most respectful compliments to all whom we both so justly hold dear, conclude me, dearest madam, Your most grateful, obliged, LETTER CCXLII. SIR CHARLES GRANDISON TO MISS BYRON. Friday, Nov. 3. RECEIVE, dearest, loveliest of women, the thanks of a most grateful heart, for your invaluable favour of Wednesday last. Does my Harriet, (already, methinks, I have sunk the name of Byron into that of Grandison,) do Mrs Shirley, Mrs Selby, think, that I have treated one of the most delicate of female minds indelicately, in the wish (not the prescription) I have presumed to signify to the beloved of my heart; that within three days after my permitted return to Northamptonshire, I may be allowed to receive at the altar the greatest blessing of my life? I would not be thought ungenerous. I signified my wishes; but I told you, in the same letter, that your cheerful compliance was to me the great desirable. In everything, from the date of the condescending letter before me, to the last of my life, shall your wishes determine mine. I will have your whole heart in the grant of every request I make to you, or you shall have the cheerful acquiescence of mine with your will. Permit me to say, that the family punctilio was not out of my thoughts, when I expressed my own ardent wishes to you. Does not the world about you expect, on the return of the happy man, a speedy solemnization? I imagined, that whether he be permitted to make the place of his abode Selby-House, or ShirleyManor, you would not that the happy day should be long deferred, which should give him rank as one of the dear family. Our equipages, my dearest life, are all in great forwardness. In tenderness to you, I have forborne to consult you upon some parts of them; as my regard for your judgment would otherwise have obliged me to do. The settlements are all ready. Our good Mr Deane is ready to LETTER CCXLIII. MISS BYRON TO LADY G Monday Morning, Nov. 6. I SEND you, my dearest Lady G, a copy of your brother's letter of Friday last. Lucy has transcribed it for you. Lucy is very obliging She desires to be allowed to correspond with you; and makes a merit of these transcriptions for an introduction; that is her view. I give you fair notice of it, that you may either check or encourage her, as you think fit. Have I not cause to think your brother a little out of the way in his resolution of so sudden a return?-This night, perhaps, or to-morrow morning-I am vexed, my dear, because he is such an anticipator, that he leaves not to me the merit of obliging him beyond his expectation. However, I shall rejoice to see him. The moment he enters the room where I am, he can have no faults. My aunt, who thinks he is full hasty, is gone to dine with my grandmamma, and intends to settle with that dear parent every thing for his reception at Shirley-Manor. Nancy is gone with her. My uncle, at Mr Orme's invitation, is gone to dine with that worthy man. Monday Afternoon. O My dearest Lady G! what shall we do! All quarrels are at an end! all petulance, all folly!—I may never, never, be his at all!— I may, before the expected time of his arrival, be the most miserable of women!-Your brother, best of men!-may be-Ah-my Charl TERRIFIED to death, my pen fell from my fingers-I fainted away-Nobody came near me. I know I was not long insensible-My terrors broke through even the fit I fell into-Nothing but death itself could make me long insensible, on such an occasion-O how I shall terrify you! -Dearest Lady G! But here, here comes my Lucy-Let her give the occasion of my anguish. [The following written by Miss Lucy Selby.] AT my cousin's request, while she is lain down, I proceed, my good Lady G, to account to you for her terrors, and for mine also -Dear creature!-But don't be too much terrified: God, we hope, God, we pray, will protect your brother! Mr Greville cannot be capable of the shocking mischief, barbarity, villainy, which, it is apprehended, he has in view: God will protect your brother! Here a note was brought from an anonymous hand-I don't know what I write-from an unknown hand; signifying, that Mr Greville was heard to threaten the life of your brother; and we are told, by more than one, that he is moody, and in a bad way as to his mind. And he left his house this morning; so the note says, (and that he certainly did,) and was seen to take the London road, with several servants, and others -And the dear Harriet has distracted herself and me with her apprehensions. My aunt out, my uncle out, none but maid-servants at home. We, before she came up to her closet, ran up and down, directing and undirecting; and she promised to go up, and try to compose herself, till my uncle came from The Park, where he is to dine with Mr Orme. He is sent for-Thank God, my uncle is come! a rageful manner, as by his voice, "I never will allow such a prize to be carried from me. He shall die the death;" and swore to it. He was a little in wine, it is true: and I should have disregarded it for that reason, had I not informed myself that he is set out with armed men this morning. Make what use you please of this: you never will know the writer. But love and reverence to the young Baronet is all my motive. So help me God! Two of my uncle's tenants, severally, saw the shocking creature on the London road, with servants. What will become of me, before morning, if he arrive not this night in safety! Monday Night, eleven. My uncle dispatched two servants to proceed on the London road as far as they could go for day-light. He himself rode to Mr Greville's. Mr Greville had been out all day, and well attended-Expected, however, to return at night -To prepare for his escape (who knows?) after the blackest of villainies. My aunt is in tears; my uncle represents aggravating circumstances. Our preparations, your brother's preparations; Mr Deane's expected arrival of to-morrowLucy weeps; Nancy wrings her hands-Your Harriet is in silent anguish-She can weep no more!-She can write no more! Tuesday Morning, 8 o'clock, Nov. 7. WHAT a dreadful night have I had! Not a wink of sleep. And nobody stirring. Afraid to come down, I suppose, for fear of seeing each other. My eyes are swelled out of my head.-I wonder my uncle is not down. He might give orders about something I know not what. What dreadful visions had I ready, as it seemed, to continue my disturbance, could I have closed my eyes to give seeming form to the flying shadows! Waking dreams: for I was broad awake: Sally sat up with me. Such startings! such absences !— I never was so before. Such another night would I not have for the world! I can only write. Yet what do I write? To what purpose?-You must not see what I have written. Now on my knees, praying, vowing: now-0 my Lucy! Lucy entered just here-Nancy followed her -Nancy tormented me with her reveries of the past night. My aunt is not well; she has not slept; my uncle fell into a doze, about his usual rising-time; he has had no rest. My grandmamma must not know the occasion of our grief, till it cannot be kept from her-If-But no moreDreadful Ifg |