July 3.—
I am mortified exceedingly, my
dear Cecilia: I find I am not likely to see
my mother this summer. I thought I could
not have lived so long from her sight. Indeed
it was purely in the hope of making
her this visit, that I prevented her coming
to town in the spring, which she purposed
doing, though far from being well
enough to undertake the journey. I own
I have been impatient under my confinement,
as that, and my previous circumstances,
detained us so long in town, and
I this day asked Mr. Arnold when we
should set out for Sidney Castle. He answered
me, that he feared it would not
be in his power this season to pay the intended
visit to my mother: he says, he has
not been near his estate in Kent these five
years, except for a day or two at a time,
and that he thinks it necessary to see what
condition it is in. I believe I have told
you ;that there is a pretty house on it.
The place is called South-park, and is
that which my mother chose for my settlement.
Mr. Arnold, who always preferred
Arnold-abbey to it, hardly ever
visited this place; and as he never resided
there, and only lay at an inn when he
went down, the house is unfurnished, excepting
a room or two, which a man who
receives his rent has just made habitable
for his own convenience.
But that I have laid it down as a rule
never to oppose so good, so indulgent a
husband as Mr. Arnold is, in any instance
wherein I do not think a superior
duty requires me to do so, I should certainly
shew some disapprobation of what
he now purposes doing. It will be attended
with so much trouble, so much
expence too—he has ordered the house at
South-park to be completely furnished,
and says, he hopes I shall like it so well
as to be induced to pass the remainder of
the summer there. Most sure it is, every
place will be delightful to me where I can
enjoy his company, and have my dear
little babes with me; but methinks two
country houses are an unnecessary charge,
and more than suits our fortune. I pray
God this tender husband may not have
a strong and prudent reason for this conduct,
which out of kindness he conceals;
perhaps he thinks this little spot at South-park may some time hence be the whole
of our dependance, and he has a mind to
be before-hand with ill fortune, in rendering
that retreat agreeable to me, and
rather an object of choice than of necessity.
If this be his motive, how much
am I obliged to him? He has not hinted
any thing like it; nor would I dash the
pleasure he seems to promise himself
there, by insinuating the least suspicion of
what his reasons are for going to it. If
we lose Arnold-abbey, and the whole
estate belonging to it, I shall only regret
it for his sake.
