University of Virginia Library

LETTER XII.
ANNE TO ELENOR.

THIS Jessey is more artful than I believed
her to be; she has gained such an ascendancy
over Sarah, that she leads her into all manner of
dissipation and extravagance. She is ever on
the wing, always in a crowd; a good way, you
will say, of making her inattentive to her own
particular conduct. The autumnal amusements
have commenced, and the play, the opera, or
some fashionable party occupies every evening;
this leads to great expenses, constantly appearing
in public requiring numerous changes of dress.
Sarah, indulged from infancy in elegant habiliments,
though her own taste prevents her dressing

fine, is thoughtlessly extravagant; elegant
laces, rich satins, with gloves, caps, shoes, &c.
suitable, are not procured for a trifling sum in
the course of a year; and Sarah is, perhaps, not
so careful of her clothes, or attentive to the expenditures
of her house keeping as she ought to
be; her heart is naturally liberal; she has no
idea of being imposed on by her servants, and
when sometimes a slight suspicion will cross her
mind, that her provisions are wasted, or her
clothes wilfully lost, any plausible excuse will
quiet her, and from a native love of peace, she
will cease to inquire concerning her domestic
concerns, or appear satisfied, when in faet, she
is not convinced; she exerts but little authority
in the management of her family: dressing,
making and receiving visits, late hours at night,
and, consequently, late mornings, have, in appearance,
totally altered the character of the
late interesting Sarah.

She gives dinners and suppers in very high
style, and is herself the very soul of the parties
she draws around her; while Jessey, satisfied
with having persuaded or flattered her into these
follies, with an assumed humility, declines joining
the parties, and I am well convinced, has more
than once instigated Darnley to blame Sarah for
a conduct, which I acknowledge very reprehensible.
But she should be remonstrated with
mildly, and not vulgarly reproached, and taunted
with having all the extravagant propensities of a
fine lady, without having brought any fortune to

support them. Yet this unmanly reproach was
made to the humiliated Sarah, in my presence,
a few days since. To which she replied, with
more sincerity than prudence: “You knew my
poverty, and wilfully burthened yourself with a
woman, who can neither feel nor think as you
do. Yet, Mr. Darnley, let me add, if you had
treated me with the confidence due to a wife,
you would have always found me conformable in
my dress and pursuits, to the circumstances of a
husband, whom it is my duty, and would be my
pride, to honor if he would let me.”

This occasioned a violent altercation. He told
her, it was not because he could not afford it,
but because he did not choose, that she should
lead so gay a life, that he found fault. She flew
out of the room, and gave vent to her full heart
by tears, (which she ever endeavors to restrain
in his presence) in her own apartment. Thither
the officious, intrusive Jessey followed her, and
I was astonished when we met at dinner, for I
was passing the day with her, to find her dressed,
and hear her declare, she meant to join a party
to the play, from whence she was going to
a card party, and that she meant to sup out.
She entreated me to accompany her; but I
very good naturedly felt at that moment a strong
propensity to stay and keep Mrs. Romain company.
And stay I did, much to the mortification
of that amiable lady, and her more amiable
chere amie.

I found a new novel in Sarah's dressing room,
and bidding the maid fetch Mrs. Romain's work,
told Darnley we did not want him, so he
might as well follow his wife to the play; and
having partly laughed, and partly satirized him
into some sense of shame, I had the pleasure to
see him depart, and very composedly begun and
finished the novel before twelve o'clock; at
which hour, Jessey being no longer able to command
her impatience, and pretend pleasure,
when in truth she was bursting with vexation,
said she was sleepy, rang for candles, and with
a profusion of civility, bade me a good night.

About two o'clock Sarah returned, and Darnley
with her; he was very petulant, and taking
a candle, went immediately to his room. Sarah
threw herself on the sofa, and burst into tears.
“What is the matter, my dear?” I asked.
“Nothing of consequence,” said she, “I am
ashamed of myself, but—” “I am afraid, my
dear Sarah,” said I, in a softened, almost hesitating
voice, “that you are somewhat to blame, in
the little disagreement of to-day; you must not
be offended, you have even given me leave to be
sincere with you; why, when Mr. Darnley expressed
a dislike to your leading so dissipated a
life, why did you immediately dress and go out?
My dear friend, you must submit a little.”
“Anne,” said she, wiping away her tears, “I feel
you are right, but I cannot command my temper
at all times. I know it is wrong to complain, the
die is cast, and I must be silent and unresisting.

But, my dear Anne, why does he not treat me
with confidence? Why am I kept a stranger in all
his concerns? I know not whether he can afford
the style in which we live, or whether he is
worth a single guinea; sometimes he will give
me money unasked; sometimes buy me finery
in profusion; at other times, he grudges every
thing, and will rail at me for wearing his presents,
though it was solely to do him honor that
I put them on. It is the last time, Anne, I will
ever speak on the subject; but my lot is not a
very happy one, even at the best; and, had I
entertained the smallest idea of the misery, the
certain misery that must attend a woman, married
to a man from whom her nature shrinks repugnant;
whose every word, opinion and action,
is an outrage to her sensibility, I would
have submitted to the most menial day labor,
before I would have taken upon myself duties I
have not the patience and fortitude to fulfil as I
ought. Heaven knows,” continued she, and her
lips began to tremble, and her voice to falter,
“Heaven knows I strive to consider him with
respect; to behold him with affection; but how
can I compel my heart to love a man, who one
hour treats me with rudeness and contempt, and
the next, with a disgusting fondness, even more
repulsive to me than his ill nature? Anne, I
have spoken with sincerity; I ever considered
you as a second self, and must now entreat you
to bury what I have said in your bosom When
you see me acting wrong, as I know I have done
to-day, do not hesitate to reprove me; but in regard
to him, I pray you be silent; he is apparently
good natured, liberal and cheerful; the world
believes me happy, I would not undeceive them.”
“I will implicitly regard your prudent injunction,”
I replied, struck with the magnanimity of
her resolution, “but will you allow me to mention
one thing more, which I really think it my
duty to point out to you, as I believe much of
your happiness in future will depend on your attending
to my advice on this subject. Be upon
your guard against Mrs. Romain; do not let her
persuade you to act in opposition to your husband's
will, and gloss such a conduct over with
the name of spirit, resolution, and proper independence.”
“Anne,” said she, “do you apprehend
that Jessey has any interested views in
sowing dissention between us?”

I perceived her drift, and, rising, said, “I
think nothing, only that Mrs. Romain is not a
woman whom I could wish to see the friend of
Sarah Darnley. She has a strong tincture of
foreign manners, and what is dignified with the
appellation of a masculine mind; but she has not
one quality which should give her an ascendancy
over such a mind as yours Good night,” said I,
kissing her cheek, “let me see you good friends
with that unaccountable being, your husband, to-morrow;
and while you have yourself every
disposition to make your fetters easy, do not suffer
officious meddlers to render them galling.

Act always from the impulse of your own heart,
and I am sure you will act right.”

The next morning I had the pleasure to see
them quite composed and civil to each other;
and to prevent any interposition that might again
stir up discontent, I insisted upon Mrs. Romain's
going to spend a few days with me. She went
home yesterday, and I have not heard from Sarah
since.