LETTER XV.
ANNE TO ELENOR.
THE morning following, the eventful day of
which I gave you an account in my last, Sarah
appeared at the breakfast table with a pale, languid
countenance; she had retired early the night
before, and I was in hopes would have obtained
some quiet repose—a refreshment which her
agitated frame and tortured mind seemed greatly
to stand in need of. I learnt that Darnley had
not been home all night; he had come home
early in the morning, and changed his clothes,
but told the maid he did not wish to have her
mistress disturbed.
“I am afraid,” said she, “he fears reproaches,
and so avoids his home; but he need not: if he
is content to be silent, I am sure I shall not broach
the detestable subject; he is now in the compting
house, has sent me word he is very busy, and will
have his breakfast sent thither. What can I
do? Some method must be taken to make him
banish this fear of again meeting me. I had
thought of writing a note, dictated in terms which
may tend to a reconciliation; for while he retains
these fears of reproaches which conscience tells
him he deserves, he will hide them under ill
nature; and suspecting I shall accost him in
taunting language, will, to prevent it, load me
with the most illiberal abuse.”
I approved the idea, and she wrote while eating
her breakfast, the following.
“It is certainly painful to me, Mr. Darnley,
to find you voluntarily avoid my society. Perhaps
I can divine the cause, and by removing it
the effect may happily cease. You think my
sex and situation will lead me, when we meet,
to recapitulate some late events, and make disagreeable
remarks thereon. Such a recapitulation
is by no means necessary. Let us meet as
though no such events had ever taken place:
let the whole pass into eternal oblivion: trust
me, it shall not be my fault if it does not. I hope
you will dine at home to day; Anne is engaged,
and if you should dine out also, I shall dine
alone.
This letter was evidently what it appeared to be,
the effect of principle; she would perhaps rather
have dined alone, than with her husband in his
present frame of mind, but she felt it was her
duty to endeavor to draw him back to domestic
scenes and domestic peace. No answer was returned
until past one o'clock, when one of the
clerks brought up the following:
“You are very much mistaken, Mrs. Darnley,
if you suppose I dread your reproaches: I
know, with all your boasted forbearance, you
dare not utter any, or it is not your regard to
me would prevent you; but pray understand,
madam, if I am not master of my own house, I
am of my actions and person, and shall go out
when and where I please, without consulting
your pleasure; mind your own business, and
don't trouble yourself about me; you have got a
comfortable home, and may go out or come in,
as you please. But you cannot suppose, after
the very polite method which you took to turn
Jessey out of doors, that I can see you with any
degree of temper; and since you have withdrawn
from her your protection, I feel doubly
bound to afford her mine. She is a woman whom
I esteem; she loves me with her whole soul;
she has given incontestable proofs, that her affection
for me supersedes all other considerations;
and had she sooner been freed from her matrimonial
shackles, you would never have been
the wife of
Sarah gave vent to her swollen heart in a flood
of tears, when she had perused this unmanly
epistle; she wrote a few lines, which as near as
I can recollect, I subjoin:
“That I am your wife, Mr. Darnley, is more
my misfortune, than my fault. But you are under
a mistake, in supposing Jessey loves you.
No woman can be under the influence of that
sacred passion, (whose power I can conceive,
though as yet I have never felt its influence) who
degrades herself below even the pity of a man of
principle, and for self gratification plunges the object
of her pretended adoration into infamy, by
inciting him to repeated breaches of every sacred
and moral obligation. You say I have a comfortable
home; can that home be so, from
whence domestic peace is banished? You are
your own master—It is well you are so. Would
to God I was as free.
He went out at two o'clock; I saw Sarah sinking
under her mental sufferings, and put off my
engagement to remain at home with her. It
was nearly the close of evening, when a message
came, saying, Mr. Darnley was going a journey,
and desired clothes to be put up to last a
fortnight. This was immediately complied with.
We sent the next day to inquire for Jessey, and
found they were gone together!—that she
passed for his wife in the house where they lodged,
and went by the name of Hayley; that the
maid and child were left at home; and that they
said they were going a tour of pleasure.
They having thus exposed themselves to open
censure, I no longer hold myself bound to withhold
the whole procedure from you. I intend
remaining with Sarah during his absence. She
has regained her composure, and mixes again
in society; but she assures me, there is now no
tie between Darnley and herself, but the strong
sense she entertains of what is due to moral rectitude.
How they will behave to each other on
his return, I cannot divine. I have no doubt but
he will endeavor to incense her so far, as to make
her wish a separation; but she will never do
that, as there is no state in the world she thinks
so humiliating and pitiable, as a woman in a
state of separation from her husband; the world
ever ready to condemn, does not fail ever to
attach some share of blame to the conduct of a
wife who is slighted and forsaken by her legal
protector.
I was interrupted an hour since, by the arrival
of a letter from Scarborough, where my brother
has been for some time; he is dangerously ill—
I must leave Sarah immediately; she has promised
to write often, you shall have copies of all
her letters, as she has allowed me that liberty.
Farewell, may heaven bless you, ever prays
