To Colonel Bellville.
OUR party last night did not turn out
so much in the still-life way as I expected
–unfortunate as I am–two rivals
at once–la bellissima Julia has most certainly
a penchant for Harry–'tis absurd,
for the thing is impossible. In the first
place, I am rather afraid he has a kind of
attachment to this creature; and in the second,
I know Lord Belmont's sentiments
on this head, and that, with all his generosity,
no man breathing has a greater aversion
to unequal marriages: the difference
is so immense in every thing but birth and
merit, that there remains not a shadow of
hope for her. But these people of high
heroics are above attending to such trifling
things as possibilities–I hope I am mistaken;
but the symptoms are strong upon her,
as you shall judge.
I left you last night, to accompany Lady
Julia to the wood we are both so fond of:
the evening was lovely beyond description,
and we were engaged in a very lively conversation;
when, as we approached the
temple, we saw Harry, who had just left
us on pretence of writing letters, come out
of it with the detestable Westbrook leaning
familiarly on his arm, her pert eyes
softened into languishment, and fixed eagerly
on his: the forward creature started at
seeing us, and attempted to fly, which
Harry prevented, and, withdrawing his arm
from hers, as if mechanically, advanced
slowly towards us, with a look so confused,
a mien so disordered, so different form that
easy air which gives ten thousand graces to
the finest form in the world, as convinced me
that this meeting was not accidental. Lady
Julia stopt the moment she saw them; a deep
blush overspread her face, she fixed her
eyes on the ground, and waited their approach
silent and unmoved as a statue. Not
so the cit: the creature's assurance, and the
ease with which she recovered herself and
addressed Lady Julia, excited equally my
astonishment and indignation. She told her,
she came to wait on her Ladyship, and the
fineness of the evening had tempted her to
leave her coach at the entrance of the wood:
that as she walked thro' she happened to
meet Mr. Mandeville, quite by chance she
assured her Ladyship; as he would testify.
Harry disdain'd to confirm her falshood even
by an assenting look: his silence, the coldness
of his manner, with the air of dignity
and spirit Lady Julia assumed, almost disconcerted
her: we walk'd silently to the house,
where the girl only stay'd till her coach was
order'd round, and then left us; her eyes
ask'd Harry's attendance, but he chose not
to understand their language.
This evening was the only unpleasant
one I ever past at Belmont: a reserve, unknown
before in that seat of sincere friendship,
took place of the sweet confidence
which used to reign there, and to which it
owes its most striking charms. We retired
earlier than common; and Lady Julia, instead
of spending half an hour in my apartment,
as usual, took leave of me at the door and
passed on to her own.
I am extremely alarmed for her–it would
have been natural to have talked over so
extraordinary an adventure with me, if
not too nearly interested–There was a
constraint in her behaviour to Harry all the
evening–an assumed coldness–his assiduity
seemed to displease her–she sighed
often–nay once, when my eyes met hers, I
observed a tear ready to start–she may
call this friendship if she pleases, but these
very tender, these apprehensive, these jealous
friendships, between amiable young
people of different sexes, are exceedingly
suspicious.
It is an hour later than her usual time of
appearing, and I hear nothing of her: I
am determined not to indulge this tender
melancholy, and have sent up to let her
know I attend her in the saloon; for I often
breakfast in my own apartment, it being
the way here for every body to do whatever
they like.–
Indeed! a letter from Lady Julia!–a
vindication?–nay then–"guilty upon my
honor."–Why imagine I suspect her?–
Oh! Conscience! Conscience!
Her extreme fear of my supposing her
in love with Harry is a convincing proof
that she is, tho' such is her amiable sincerity,
that I am sure she has deceived herself
before she would attempt to deceive me;
but the latter is not so easy; sitters by see
all the game.
She tells me, she cannot see me till she
has vindicated herself from a suspicion
which the weakness of her behaviour yesterday
may have caused: That she is not
sure she has resolution to mention the subject
when present; therefore takes this
way to assure me, that, tender and lively
as her friendship for Mr. Mandeville is,
it is only friendship; a friendship which
his merit has hitherto justified, and which
has been the innocent pleasure of her life.
That born with too keen sensibilities (poor
thing! I pity her sensibilities) the ill treatment
of her friends wounds her to the
soul. That zeal for his honor and the
integrity of his character, which she thinks
injured by the mysterious air of last night's
adventure; her shock at a clandestine and
dissembled appointment, so inconsistent with
that openness which she had always admired
in him, as well as with the respect
due to her, now so particularly in her father's
absence under his protection, had occasioned
that concern which she fears may
make her appear to me more weak than
she is.
In short, she takes a great deal of pains
to lead herself into an error; and struggles
in those toils which she will find great difficulty
in breaking.
Harry's valet has just told my woman
his master was in bed but two hours last
night: that he walked about his room
till three, and rose again at five, and went
out on horseback, without a servant. The
poor fellow is frighted to death about
him; for he is idolized by this servants,
and this man has been with him from his
child-hood. But adieu! I hear Lady Julia
upon the stairs. I must meet her in the
saloon.
Eleven o'Clock.
Poor soul! I never saw any thing like
her confusion when we met: she blushed,
she trembled, and sunk half motionless into
her chair: I made the tea, without taking
the least notice of her inability to do it; and
by my easy chit chat manner soon brought
her to be a little composed: though her
eye was often turned towards the door,
though she started at every sound, yet she
never asked the cause of Harry's absence,
which must however surprize her, as he
always breakfasts below.
Foreseeing we should be a very aukward
party to day à Trio, I sent early in the
morning to ask three or four very agreeable
girls about two miles off, to come and
ramble all day with us in the woods: happily
for poor Lady Julia, they came in before
we had done breakfast; and I left them
to go and look at some shellwork, whilst I
came up to finish my letter.
Harry is come back, and has sent to
speak with me; I am really a person of
great consequence at present. I am in a
very ill humor with him; he may well be
ashamed to appear; however, the worst of
criminals deserves to be heard. I will admit
him: he is at the door. Adio!
A. Wilmot.
