University of Virginia Library

LETTER XXIII.
SARAH TO ANNE.

`MY daughter,' said Mrs. Bellamy, `was at the
age of seventeen, married to Mr. O 'Donnell,
who was past thirty—that, however, was of no
consequence; a disparity of age, unless very great
indeed, not being of the importance it is generally
supposed to be to matrimonal felicity;
especially when the superiority is on the man's
side. O'Donnell was handsome, lively, and had
the manners and education of a gentleman; his
fortune was not large, but this I did not discover
until some months after their marriage. Caroline
was my only child I had a genteel annuity
on which I lived, and her appearance had been
always such that he supposed she had a very
considerable fortune.'

`Did you know he had those ideas.'

`I knew but very little about the business until
it was completed. My daughter was on a visit
to a friend in the country; O'Donnell saw her,
admired her, and persuaded the silly child to go
off with him to Scotland.'

`Had your daughter any reason to think, had
you known of her intended connexion, that you
would have disapproved, or endeavored to prevent
it?'

`I don't know that she had; but she was the
very child of romance, and loved every thing that

wore an air of mystery, and required a little
manœuvring to execute.'

`Then I should call her the child of intrigue.

The old lady colored, and repeating in rather
an elevated key, the word intrigue, was silent
for a moment, and then proceeded:—

`When they returned from this imprudent
excursion, they came directly to London, and to
my house. I was in some measure prepared for
it; for the lady whom Caroline had been visiting,
wrote me word of their departure, and she herself
addressed a letter to me from York, where
she stopped a few hours on her way to Scotland.
I received them with cordiality, and indeed,
imagined I had no reason to be displeased with
my daughter's choice; as from every appearance
about O'Donnell, his dress, his expenses, his
equipage, &c. I concluded him to be a man of
independent fortune. The house I lived in was
neat, but not spacious. O'Donnell loved company;
our style of living did not suit his extravagant
turn. He one morning, about three months
after his marriage, hinted that it would be more
convenient and agreeable to have a larger house,
and more extensive establishment. “Well, sir,”
said I, “why then do you not take a larger, have
it fitted up to your own and Caroline's taste, and
remove to it? I am glad to have you continue your
visit to me as long as is agreeable, but it is certainly
time you thought about an establishment
of your own.” I wish, Mrs. Darnley, you could
have seen the woe-begone countenance of the

man, when I made this remark; his cheeks lost
their animated hue, his lips trembled, and deliberately
setting his cup of tea on the table, he replied,
“I shall be happy, madam, to provide
your daughter such an establishment, when you
have paid her fortune; you say it is time we
thought of a removal, only that I have been waiting
in daily expectation of your leading to this
subject, and making this necessary settlement, I
should have spared so protracted a trouble; besides
which, I thought my dear Caroline would
not wish to be separated from her mother; and
intended, whenever that arrangement should
take place, to have given you an invitation to
reside with us; and even now, if she prefers this
house, we will remain in it, and shall be highly
honored in having you make a part of our family;
but—but my wife must be mistress in her
own house, and preside at her own table.”

“When she has a house of her own, Mr.
O`Donnel,” I replied, “she may do so, but I
beg leave to retain my place and my authority
over my own family; and to express my thanks
to you for the honor you have done me in requesting
me to become a visitor, where I have a
right to command, but I beg leave to decline it.
As to what you hint about Caroline's fortune, I
am at a loss to understand you; who ever told
you that she had any?”

“It was a general received opinion in the circle
where I first became acquainted with her;
and when I, through the medium of a friend,

inquired particulars of the lady at whose house
she then resided, I received for answer, that her
property was supposed to be about fifteen thousand
pounds—otherwise—” “You would not
have married her,” I said with quickness. “By
my soul, madam, had I not thought her secure
in independence, I would not.”

“Upon my word, she is infinitely obliged to
you.”

“She ought to be; from the first moment I
saw her, I found my tenderness powerfully
awakened; every succeeding interview tended
to heighten my admiration, and increase my
passion. But elevated as she appeared to be,
above my hopes; educated as she had been, and
accustomed from infancy to all the elegances,
all the indulgences affluence could procure, I
should never have dared to breathe the smallest
word that might have betrayed my secret, had
she not, by a thousand innocent, indescribable
actions, given me reason to think I was not indifferent
to her. Nor even then, would I have
been the selfish villain, to desire to unite her
destiny with mine, and plunge her into comparative
poverty; but being told, her own fortune
would secure to her those conveniences she had
been accustomed to enjoy—I spoke, was accepted;
and most happy in receiving her hand at
the altar.”

“And no doubt, sir,” said I, “the hand of an
automaton would have been received with equal
rapture, had you supposed it conveyed to you

the right of receiving fifteen thousand pounds?”

“No, by heavens,” he replied with vehemence,
“I loved her for herself: and if in that particular
I have been deceived, I only lament it for
her sake.”

“You have been deceived most egregiously;
Caroline has no fortune.”

“So be it,” said he, throwing down a pamphlet,
with some emotion of chagrin which
he had been perusing previous to the commencement
of our conversation: “So be it: I
have a small estate in Ireland, the yearly revenue
of which is about two hundred pounds; if
she will go with me thither, and be content with
so limited an income, I will devote my life to
her service and happiness; and by following the
profession for which I was educated, namely, the
law, I will endeavor to add to the comforts, and
may by industry, in time, even procure for my
beloved Caroline the elegances of life. And to
convince you, madam, that I had no intention to
commit depredations on your daughter's property;
here is a writing, (continued he, rising
and unlocking a small writing desk, which stood
in the parlor) properly executed for a settlement:
it only requires sums to be specified, and
signatures annexed, to make it binding, even to
the utmost extent of her supposed fortune.”

`He must have been a man of a liberal spirit,'
said I, interrupting Mrs. Bellamy.

`He was a man of the most consummate art,'
said she.

`Was your daughter present,' I inquired, `during
this conversation?'

`No,' she replied, `she left the room the moment
it began.'

`How did O `Donnel explain the mystery of
his splendid appearances with his contracted
finances?' I asked.

`You shall hear,' said she.

And so shall you, Anne, another time; but
now I am too weary to add any thing more, but
the most fervent prayer, that health, peace, and
prosperity may be the constant attendants of the
chosen friend of my soul. Adieu.