To Colonel Bellville.
Monday.
"WILL you marry me, my dear
Ally Croaker?" For ever this
question, Bellville? And yet really you
seem to be not at all in the secret. "Respect,
submission"–I thought you had
known the sex better: How should a modest
woman ever be prevailed on by a respectful
submissive lover? You would not surely
have us––
Oh! Heavens! A billet. Some despairing
inamorato: Indeed? Lord Melvin? He
is not going to make love to me sure.
Very well; things are in a fine train.
He writes me here as pretty an heroic epistle
as one would desire, setting forth his
passion for Bell Hastings, whom he has just
discovered is my niece, and whom he declares
he cannot live without; owning appearances
are against him, and begging
me to convey to her a long tidi didum
letter, explaining the reasons and causes–
The story is tedious, but the sum total is
this: That he found at Florence the friend
on earth he most loved, engaged in an affair
of honor, in which he could not avoid
taking part as his second; that they went
to the last town in the Tuscan state, in order
to escape into another, if any accident
made it necessary to elude the pursuit of
justice; that, to avoid suspicion, he left orders
with his people to say he had left Florence:
that he wrote to her by his valet,
who was unfortunately seized and confined,
the affair being suspected: that he was
wounded, and obliged to stay some time
before he could return to Florence, when
he was informed she had left Italy; and,
though he had omitted no means to find
her, had never been so happy as to succeed:
had made his sister, Lady Louisa, his
confident, and by her assistance had almost
prevailed on his father to consent.
"Almost prevailed on." Really these
are pretty airs. I shall write him an extremely
stately answer, and let him know, if
he expects Miss Hastings to do him the
honor, his address must be in quite another
style: Miss Hastings! in blood, in merit,
in education, in every thing truly valuable,
and in fortune too, if I please, his equal!
I wish the foolish girl was not so madly in
love with him, for I long to torture his
proud heart: I cannot resist teazing him a
little; but, as I know her weakness, and
that we must come to at last, I shall be
forced to leave a door of mercy open: I
shall, however, insist on his family's seeking
the match, and on Lord Rochdale's asking
her of me in form; I will not yield a scruple
of our dignity on this occasion.
But I must carry this Letter to Bell.
Adieu!
As to your foolish question, I may perhaps
allow you to visit at Belmont; I will
promise no more at present.
Did I tell you we all spent yesterday with
my niece? She has the honor to please
Lady Mary, who, on seeing her at a little
distance with Lady Julia and me (no ill
group certainly) insisted on our sitting next
winter for a picture of the Graces dancing.
Or suppose, Madam, said I, the three
Goddesses on mount Ida, with Harry Mandeville
for our Paris?
Poor little Emily, being equally under
size for a Grace or a Goddess, must be content
to be a Hebe in a single piece.
Adio! Yours,
A. Wilmot.
