To George Mordaunt, Esq;
Friday.
I Have past a tedious fortnight at Lord
T — 's, without tasting any pleasure
but that of talking of Lady Julia, with
some ladies in the neighbourhood who
know her. I estimate the merit of those
I converse with, by the distinction of being
known to her: those who are so happy as
to be of her acquaintance have, in my eye,
every charm, that polished wit or elegant
knowledge can give; those who want that
advantage scarce deserve the name of human
beings: all conversation, of which she
is not the subject, is lifeless and insipid; all
of which she is, brilliant and divine.
My Lord rallies me on my frequent
visits to these Ladies, and, as one of them
is extremely handsome, supposes it a beginning
passion: the Lady herself, I am
afraid, is deceived, for, as she is particularly
warm in her praises of Lady Julia, my eyes
sparkle with pleasure at her approach. I
single her out in every company, and dance
with her at all our little parties; I have even
an attention to her superior to that of common
lovers, and feel for her a tenderness
for which I want a name.
Lady Anne has had the goodness to
write twice to me, from Lord Rochdale's,
whither my Lord went, with his amiable
family, two days after I left Belmont:
Lady Julia is well, she loves me, she hears
of me with pleasure. Ought I at present
to wish more?
I have hinted to Lord T — my purpose,
though not the dear motive which inspired
it; he is warmly my friend, if there is truth
in man. I will be more explicite the first
time I see him alone: shall I own to you
one weakness of my heart? I would be
served by any interest but Lord Belmont's.
How can I pretend to his daughter, if all I
have is, in a manner, his gift? I would be
rich independently of his friendship.
Lord T — is walking in the garden
alone; I will go to him, and explain all my
designs: his knowledge of mankind will
guide me to the best road to wealth and
honor; his friendship will assist me to the
ample extent of his power. Adieu!
