LETTER CCXCVIII. LADY GRANDISON. [In continuation.] Saturday, March 31. Now, my dear grandmamma, let me give you some account of what passed yesterday. The articles, signed and witnessed, were put into Lady Clementina's hand, and a pen given her, that she might write her name, in the presence of all her surrounding friends here. Never woman appeared with more dignity in her air and manner. She was charmingly dressed, and became her dress. A truly-lovely woman! But every one by looks seemed concerned at her solemnity. She signed her name; but tore off, deliberately, their names; and, kissing the torn bit, put it in her bosom: then, throwing herself on her knees to her father and mother, who stood together, and presenting the paper to the former; Never let it be said, that your child, your Clementina, has presumed to article in form with the dearest of parents. My name stands. It will be a witness against me, if I break the articles which I have signed. But in your forgiveness, my lord, in yours, madam, and in a thousand acts of indulgence, I have too much experienced your past, to doubt your future, goodness to me. Your intention, my everhonoured parents, is your act. I pray to God to enable your Clementina to be all you wish her to be. In the single life only indulge me. Your word is all the assurance I wish for. I will have no other. They embraced her. They tenderly raised her between them; and again embraced her. I would not, methinks, sir, said she, turning to Sir Charles, for the first time see the Count of Belvedere before all this company, though I revere every one in it. Is the Count in the house? He is in my study, madam. Will my mamma, said she, turning to her, honour me with her presence e? She gave her hand to Sir Charles, and took mine. Jeronymo followed her; and Sir Charles led her into the next room. Too great solemnity in all this! whispered the Marquis to Father Marescotti. She curtseyed, invitingly, to Mrs Beaumont. She also followed her. Sir Charles, seating her and the Marchioness, by the young lady's silent permission, went into his study; and, having prepared the Count to expect a solemn and uncommon reception, introduced him. He approached her, profoundly bowing: a sweet blush overspread her cheeks: You, my Lord of Belvedere, said she, are one of those my friends, to whom I am, in some measure, accountable for the rash step which brought me into this kingdom; because it has induced you to accompany my brothers, whom you have always honoured with your friendship. -Forgive me for any inconveniencies you have suffered on this occasion. What honour does Lady Clementina do me to rank me in the number of the friends to whom she thinks herself accountable !-Believe me, madam My lord, interrupted she, I shall always regard you as the friend of my family, and as my friend. I shall wish your happiness, I do wish your happiness, as my own; and I cannot give you a stronger proof that I do, than by withholding from you the hand which you have sought to obtain with an unshaken, and, my friends think, an obliging perseverance, quite through an unhappy malady, which ought to have deterred you, for many sakes, and most for your own. My dear mamma, throwing herself at her feet, forgive me for my perseverance. It is not altogether owing (I hope it is not at all owing) to perverseness, and to a wilful resistance of the wills and wishes of all my friends, that I have withstood you. Two reasons influenced me, when I declined another hand: religion and country, a double reason, was one; the unhappy malady which had seized me, was another. Two reasons, rising with dignity, and turning from her weeping mother, also influence me with regard to the Count of Belvedere ; though neither of them are the important articles of religion and country. I own to you, before these my dearest friends, and let it be told to every one whom it concerns to know it, that justice to the Count of Belvedere is one-What a wretch should I be, if I gave my hand to a man who had not the preference in my heart, which is a husband's due! And should I, who had an unhappy reason to refuse one worthy man for his own sake, perhaps for the sakes of the unborn, (I will speak out on this important occasion,) not be determined to do as much justice to another?-In one word, I refused to punish the Chevalier Grandison: Madam, to me, you know my story: What has the Count of Belvedere done, that I should make no scruple to punish him? My good lord, be satisfied with my wishes for your happiness. I find myself, at times, very, very wrong. I have given proofs but too convincing to all my friends, that I am not right. -While I so think, conscience, honour, justice, (as I told you once before, my good chevalier,) compel me to embrace the single life.--I have, in duty to my nearest friends, given up the way I should have chosen to lead it in.-Let me try to recover myself in their way. My dearest, dearest mamma, (again dropping on her knees to her,) I will endeavour to make all my friends happy in the way they have agreed to make me so. Pray for me, all my friends!-looking round her, tears in big drops trickling down her cheeks. Then rising, Pray for me, my Lord of Belve dere: I will for you; and that you may do justice to the merit of some worthier woman, who can do justice to yours. She hurried from us, in a way which shewed she was too much elevated for her bodily powers. Sir Charles besought Mrs Beaumont to follow her. Mrs Beaumont took my hand. We found the lady in the study: she was on her knees, and in tears. She arose at our entrance. Each of us hastening to give her a hand, O my dear Lady Grandison! said she, forgive me-Am I, am I wrong, my dear Mrs Beaumont?-Tell me, Have I behaved amiss? We both applauded her. Well we might. If her greatness be owing to a raised imagination, who shall call it a malady? Who, but for the dear lady's own sake, would regret the next to divine impulse, by which, on several occasions, she has shewn herself actuated? She suffered herself to be led to her mother, who embracing her, (Clementina again kneeling to her,) My dearest child, my blessed daughter, we all of us, while such are your apprehensions, must acquiesce with your reasons. Be happy, my love, in your own magnanimity. I glory in my child. And I in my sister, said the noble Jeronymo -Saint! Angel! kneeling to her on one knee, notwithstanding his lameness, I next to adore my sister. She called him her brother, her true brother. Then taking my hand: And will you, Lady Grandison, said she, be my sister? Shall Sir Charles Grandison be my brother? Will you return with us into Italy? Shall we cultivate on both sides a family friendship to the end of our lives? I threw my arms about her neck, tears mingling on the cheeks of both: It will be my ambition, my great ambition, to deserve the distinction you give me-My sister, my friend, the sister of my best friend, love him as he honours you; and me for his sake, as I will you for your own, as well as for his, to the end of my life. Sir Charles clasped his arms about us both. His eyes spoke his admiration of her, and his delight in each. Angels he called us. Then seating us, he took the Count's hand; and, leading him to her, Let me, madam, present to you the Count of Belvedere, as a man equally to be pitied and esteemed. He yields to your magnanimity with a greatness of mind like your own. Receive then, acknowledge, the friend in him. He will endeavour to forego a dearer hope. Then will I receive him as my friend. I thank you, my lord, for the honour you have so long done me. May you be happy with a woman, who can deserve you!-See that happy pair before you !-May you be as happy as Sir Charles Grandison !-What greater felicity can I wish you? He took her hand: on one knee he lifted it to his lips: I will tear from you, madam, a tormentor. I must ask nothing of you; but, for myself, I can only promise, in the words of the Chevalier Grandison, to endeavour to forego, a dearer, the dearest, hope. The Count arose, bowing to her with profound respect; his eyes full; as his heart seemed to be. Signor Jeronymo motioned to return to the company. Lady Clementina wished to retire with me, till what had passed was related to the rest. I led her to my closet. There did we renew our vows of everlasting friendship. Sir Charles, thinking the relation would be painful to the Count, withdrew with him into his study. Mrs Beaumont and Signor Jeronymo told those who were not present at the affecting scenes, what had passed. When we were summoned to dinner, every one received Lady Clementina as an angel. They applauded her for her noble behaviour to the Count, and blessed themselves for having taken the resolution of coming to England; and, most of all, they blessed my dear Sir Charles; to whom they ascribed all their opening happy prospects; and promised themselves that his family and theirs would be as much one, as if the alliance, once so near taking place, had actually done so. Sir Charles, at and after dinner, urged the carrying into execution the latter part of his beneficent plan. He offered to attend them to the drawing-room, to the play, to the oratorios; (and took that opportunity to give the praises which everybody allows to be due to Mr Handel ;) and to every place of public entertainment which was worthy the notice of foreigners; and left it to their choice, whether they would go first to Grandison-Hall, or satisfy their curiosity in and about town. The Marquis said, that as Sir Charles and I were brought out of the country by the arrival of their Clementina, and our expectation of them, he doubted not but it would be most agreeable to us, to return to our own seat; adding, politely, that the highest entertainment they could have, would be the company and conversation of us, and our friends; and that rather at our own seats than anywhere else. The public diversions, he was pleased to say, might take their attention afterwards. Now they were here, they would not be in haste to return, provided Sir Charles and his friends would answer the hope he had given of accompanying them back to Italy. There is no repeating the polite and agreeable things, that were said on all sides. Well then, my dear grandmamma, to cut short, thus it was at last agreed upon : The Count of Belvedere, who, all the afternoon and evening, received the highest marks of civility and politeness from the admirable Cle mentina, (which, by the way, I am afraid will not promote his cure,) proposes, with Signors Sebastiano, and Juliano, to pass a month or six weeks in seeing everything which they shall think worthy of their notice in and about this great city; and then, after one farewell visit to us, they intend to set out together for the court of Madrid; where the Count intends to stay some months. We shall set out, on Monday next, for Grandison-Hall. Lord and Lady L will follow us in a week or fortnight. How will the poor dear Charlotte mutter! whispered Lady L to me: but she and her lord will join us as soon as possible. Mrs Eleanor Grandison loves not the Hall, because of the hardships she received from the late owner of it, Sir Thomas; and thinks herself bound by a rash vow, which she made the last times he was there, never again to enter its gates. Lady Clementina whispered to me more than once, how happy she should think herself in these excursions; and hoped all their healths would be established by them. She said the sweetest, the most affectionate things to me. Once she said, bidding me call her nothing but my Clementina, that she should be happy, if she were sure I loved her as much as she loved me. I assured her, and that from my very heart, that I dearly loved her. Surely it was a happy incident, my dear grandmamma, that Lady Clementina took a step, which, though at first it had a rash appearance, has been productive of so much joy to all around, (the poor Count of Belvedere excepted,) and, in particular, to Your ever-dutiful, ever-grateful, LETTER CCXCVIII. LADY GRANDISON TO LADY G. Grandison-Hall, Monday, April 9. How happy, my dear Lady G―, are we all of us here, in one another! How happy is your Harriet! And yet when you can come, and partake of my felicity, it will be still enlarged. I have just now received a letter from Lucy. The contents, as you will see, (for I shall enclose it,) are a conversation that passed a few days ago at Shirley-Manor, upon a subject of which you are a better judge than your Harriet. In short, it is a call upon you, as I interpret it, to support your own doctrines; by which, in former letters, you have made some of the honest girls in England half ashamed to own a first passion. You know how much I am at present engaged. I would not have the dear girls ne VOL. VIII. [Enclosed in the preceding.] Thursday, April 5. EVERY hour in the day, some circumstance or other makes me wish my dear Lady Grandison in Northamptonshire. Emily charms us allBut still every object reminds us of our Harriet. Not that Harriet alone would content us now. Nor could Sir Charles and Lady Grandison be at this time spared by their noble guests. After all, therefore, everything is best as it is. But indeed we all wished for you yesterday evening, most particularly, at Shirley-Manor. The con versation was an interesting one to all us girls; and Emily, Nancy, and our cousins Holles, have brought me to give you an account of it, and to appeal to you upon it; and through you to Lady G And yet we are all of us more than half afraid of a lady, who has already treated but lightly a subject that young women think of high importance. The conversation began with my cousin Kitty's greatly pitying Lady Clementina; describing, in her pathetic way, the struggles she had had between her first duties and her inclination; the noble preference she had given to the for mer; and the persecution, as she called it, of all her friends to induce her to marry, when she chooses to live single all her life. Every one of us young folks joined with my cousin Kitty. But your grandmamma Shirley could not, she said, perfectly agree with us in the hardship of Lady Clementina's situation; who having from noble motives spontaneously rejected the man of her choice, was, from reasons of family convenience, and even of personal happiness, urged to marry a nobleman, who, by all accounts, is highly deserving and agreeable, and every way suitable to her: a man, in short, to whom she pretended not an aversion; nor hoped nor wished to be the wife of any other man; proposing to herself only the single life, and having given up all thoughts of taking the veil. Personal happiness! cried out Miss Kitty Holles: Can the woman be happy in a second choice, whose first was Sir Charles Grandison? And whom, for noble motives, she refused, said my aunt Selby, remember that, Kitty; and whom she wished to be, and who actually is, the husband of another woman. 3 B dere: I will for you; and that you may do justice to the merit of some worthier woman, who can do justice to yours. She hurried from us, in a way which shewed she was too much elevated for her bodily powers. Sir Charles besought Mrs Beaumont to follow her. Mrs Beaumont took my hand. We found the lady in the study: she was on her knees, and in tears. She arose at our entrance. Each of us hastening to give her a hand, O my dear Lady Grandison! said she, forgive me e-Am I, am I wrong, my dear Mrs Beaumont?-Tell me, Have I behaved amiss? We both applauded her. Well we might. If her greatness be owing to a raised imagination, who shall call it a malady? Who, but for the dear lady's own sake, would regret the next to divine impulse, by which, on several occasions, she has shewn herself actuated? She suffered herself to be led to her mother, who embracing her, (Clementina again kneeling to her,) My dearest child, my blessed daughter, we all of us, while such are your apprehensions, must acquiesce with your reasons. Be happy, my love, in your own magnanimity. I glory in my child. And I in my sister, said the noble Jeronymo -Saint! Angel! kneeling to her on one knee, notwithstanding his lameness, I next to adore my sister. She called him her brother, her true brother. Then taking my hand: And will you, Lady Grandison, said she, be my sister? Shall Sir Charles Grandison be my brother? Will you return with us into Italy? Shall we cultivate on both sides a family friendship to the end of our lives? I threw my arms about her neck, tears mingling on the cheeks of both: It will be my ambition, my great ambition, to deserve the distinction you give me-My sister, my friend, the sister of my best friend, love him as he honours you; and me for his sake, as I will you for your own, as well as for his, to the end of my life. Sir Charles clasped his arms about us both. His eyes spoke his admiration of her, and his delight in each. Angels he called us. Then seating us, he took the Count's hand; and, leading him to her, Let me, madam, present to you the Count of Belvedere, as a man equally to be pitied and esteemed. He yields to your magnanimity with a greatness of mind like your own. Receive then, acknowledge, the friend in him. He will endeavour to forego a dearer hope. Then will I receive him as my friend. I thank you, my lord, for the honour you have so long done me. May you be happy with a woman, who can deserve you!-See that happy pair before you!-May you be as happy as Sir Charles Grandison !-What greater felicity can I wish you? He took her hand: on one knee he lifted it to his lips: I will tear from you, madam, a tormentor. I must ask nothing of you; but, for myself, I can only promise, in the words of the Chevalier Grandison, to endeavour to forego, a dearer, the dearest, hope. The Count arose, bowing to her with profound respect; his eyes full; as his heart seemed to be. Signor Jeronymo motioned to return to the company. Lady Clementina wished to retire with me, till what had passed was related to the rest. I led her to my closet. There did we renew our vows of everlasting friendship. Sir Charles, thinking the relation would be painful to the Count, withdrew with him into his study. Mrs Beaumont and Signor Jeronymo told those who were not present at the affecting scenes, what had passed. When we were summoned to dinner, every one received Lady Clementina as an angel. They applauded her for her noble behaviour to the Count, and blessed themselves for having taken the resolution of coming to England; and, most of all, they blessed my dear Sir Charles; to whom they ascribed all their opening happy prospects; and promised themselves that his family and theirs would be as much one, as if the alliance, once so near taking place, had actually done so. Sir Charles, at and after dinner, urged the carrying into execution the latter part of his beneficent plan. He offered to attend them to the drawing-room, to the play, to the oratorios; (and took that opportunity to give the praises which everybody allows to be due to Mr Handel;) and to every place of public entertainment which was worthy the notice of foreigners; and left it to their choice, whether they would go first to Grandison-Hall, or satisfy their curiosity in and about town. The Marquis said, that as Sir Charles and I were brought out of the country by the arrival of their Clementina, and our expectation of them, he doubted not but it would be most agreeable to us, to return to our own seat; adding, politely, that the highest entertainment they could have, would be the company and conversation of us, and our friends; and that rather at our own seats than anywhere else. The public diversions, he was pleased to say, might take their attention afterwards. Now they were here, they would not be in haste to return, provided Sir Charles and his friends would answer the hope he had given of accompanying them back to Italy. There is no repeating the polite and agreeable things, that were said on all sides. Well then, my dear grandmamma, to cut short, thus it was at last agreed upon : The Count of Belvedere, who, all the afternoon and evening, received the highest marks of civility and politeness from the admirable Cle ୫ mentina, (which, by the way, I am afraid will not promote his cure,) proposes, with Signors Sebastiano, and Juliano, to pass a month or six weeks in seeing everything which they shall think worthy of their notice in and about this great city; and then, after one farewell visit to us, they intend to set out together for the court of Madrid; where the Count intends to stay some months. We shall set out, on Monday next, for Grandison-Hall. Lord and Lady L- I will follow us in a week or fortnight. How will the poor dear Charlotte mutter ! whispered Lady Ľ— to me: but she and her lord will join us as soon as possible. Mrs Eleanor Grandison loves not the Hall, because of the hardships she received from the late owner of it, Sir Thomas; and thinks herself bound by a rash vow, which she made the last times he was there, never again to enter its gates. Lady Clementina whispered to me more than once, how happy she should think herself in these excursions; and hoped all their healths would be established by them. She said the sweetest, the most affectionate things to me. Once she said, bidding me call her nothing but my Clementina, that she should be happy, if she were sure I loved her as much as she loved me. I assured her, and that from my very heart, that I dearly loved her. Surely it was a happy incident, my dear grandmamma, that Lady Clementina took a step, which, though at first it had a rash appearance, has been productive of so much joy to all around, (the poor Count of Belvedere excepted,) and, in particular, to Your ever-dutiful, ever-grateful, LETTER CCXCVIII. LADY GRANDISON TO LADY G Grandison-Hall, Monday, April 9. How happy, my dear Lady G, are we all of us here, in one another! How happy is your Harriet! And yet when you can come, and partake of my felicity, it will be still enlarged. I have just now received a letter from Lucy. The contents, as you will see, (for I shall enclose it,) are a conversation that passed a few days ago at Shirley-Manor, upon a subject of which you are a better judge than your Harriet. In short, it is a call upon you, as I interpret it, to support your own doctrines; by which, in former letters, you have made some of the honest girls in England half ashamed to own a first passion. You know how much I am at present engaged. I would not have the dear girls ne VOL. VIII. [Enclosed in the preceding.] Thursday, April 5. EVERY hour in the day, some circumstance or other makes me wish my dear Lady Grandison in Northamptonshire. Emily charms us all— But still every object reminds us of our Harriet. Not that Harriet alone would content us now, Nor could Sir Charles and Lady Grandison be at this time spared by their noble guests. After all, therefore, everything is best as it is. But indeed we all wished for you yesterday evening, most particularly, at Shirley-Manor. The conversation was an interesting one to all us girls; and Emily, Nancy, and our cousins Holles, have brought me to give you an account of it, and to appeal to you upon it; and through you to Lady G. And yet we are all of us more than half afraid of lady, who has already treated but lightly a subject that young women think of high importance. The conversation began with my cousin Kitty's greatly pitying Lady Clementina; describing, in her pathetic way, the struggles she had had between her first duties and her inclination; the noble preference she had given to the former; and the persecution, as she called it, of all her friends to induce her to marry, when she chooses to live single all her life. Every one of us young folks joined with my cousin Kitty. But your grandmamma Shirley could not, she said, perfectly agree with us in the hardship of Lady Clementina's situation; who having from noble motives spontaneously rejected the man of her choice, was, from reasons of family convenience, and even of personal happiness, urged to marry a nobleman, who, by all accounts, is highly deserving and agreeable, and every way suitable to her: a man, in short, to whom she pretended not an aversion; nor hoped nor wished to be the wife of any other man; proposing to herself only the single life, and having given up all thoughts of taking the veil. Personal happiness! cried out Miss Kitty Holles: Can the woman be happy in a second choice, whose first was Sir Charles Grandison? And whom, for noble motives, she refused, said my aunt Selby, remember that, Kitty; and whom she wished to be, and who actually is, the husband of another woman. 3 B |