To Col. Bellville.
Friday Night.
WE have lost our lovely Harry; he
left us this morning for Lord
T — 's. Poor Lady Julia! how I adore
her amiable sincerity! she has owned her
passion to me as we aired, and mentioned
hopes which are founded in madness: I
ventured gently to remonstrate, but there is
no reasoning with a heart in love. Time
and absence may effect a cure: I am the
confidente of both: I am perplexed how to
proceed: I must either betray the trust reposed
in me, or abuse my Lord Belmont's
friendship and hospitality.
In what a false light do we see every thing
through the medium of passion! Lady
Julia is heiress to 14,000£. a year, yet
thinks Harry's merit may raise him to a
situation which will justify his pretending
to her, and that this stupendous rise may
be brought about in a twelvemonth: he
too thinks it possible; nay the scheme is
his. Heaven and earth! yet they are not
fools, and Harry has some knowledge of
mankind.
At present there is no talking reasonably
to either of them. I must soothe
them, to bring them off this ruinous inclination
by degrees.
As idleness is the nurse of love, I will
endeavour to keep Lady Julia continually
amused: a new lover might do much, but
there is nobody near us that is tolerable:
indeed the woman who has loved Harry
Mandeville, will be somewhat hard to
please.
Chance favors my designs; my Lord has
proposed a visit of a fortnight to a neighbouring
nobleman, Lord Rochdale, whose
house is generally full of gay people; his
son too, Lord Melvin, with whom I was
acquainted abroad, and who is only inferior
to Harry Mandeville, is hourly expected
from his travels.
Since I wrote the last paragraph, an idea
has struck me; from a very particular expression
in a letter I once received from
Lady Belmont, in France, I have a strong
suspicion Lord Melvin is intended for Lady
Julia; I wish he might be agreeable to
her, for her present passion is absolutely distraction.
We go to-morrow: when we come back
you shall hear from me: or, perhaps, for
I am something variable in my determinations,
as soon as I get thither. Expect
nothing however: if I do you the honor,
you must set an immense value on my condescension,
for I know we shall not have a
moment to spare from amusements. Adieu!
A. Wilmot.
