The History of Emily Montague Part 49

I agree with you, my dear Temple, that nothing can be more pleasing than an _awakened_ English woman; of which you and my _caro sposo_ have, I flatter myself, the happy experience; and wish with you that the character was more common: but I must own, and I am sorry to own it, that my fair countrywomen and fellow citizens (I speak of the nation in general, and not of the capital) have an unbecoming kind of reserve, which prevents their being the agreable companions, and amiable wives, which nature meant them.

From a fear, and I think a prudish one, of being thought too attentive to please your s.e.x, they have acquired a certain distant manner to men, which borders on ill-breeding: they take great pains to veil, under an affected appearance of disdain, that winning sensibility of heart, that delicate tenderness, which renders them doubly lovely.

They are even afraid to own their friends.h.i.+ps, if not according to the square and rule; are doubtful whether a modest woman may own she loves even her husband; and seem to think affections were given them for no purpose but to hide.

Upon the whole, with at least as good a native right to charm as any women on the face of the globe, the English have found the happy secret of pleasing less.

Is my Emily arrived? I can say nothing else.

Twelve o'clock.

I am the happiest woman in the creation: papa has just told me, we are to go home in six or seven weeks.

Not but this is a divine country, and our farm a terrestrial paradise; but we have lived in it almost a year, and one grows tired of every thing in time, you know, Temple.

I shall see my Emily, and flirt with Rivers; to say nothing of you and my little Lucy.

Adieu! I am grown very lazy since I married; for the future, I shall make Fitzgerald write all my letters, except billet-doux, in which I think I excel him.

Yours, A. Fitzgerald.

LETTER 161.

To Miss Fermor, at Silleri.

Dover, July 8.

I am this moment arrived, my dear Bell, after a very agreable pa.s.sage, and am setting out immediately for London, from whence I shall write to you the moment I have seen Mrs. Rivers; I will own to you I tremble at the idea of this interview, yet am resolved to see her, and open all my soul to her in regard to her son; after which, I shall leave her the mistress of my destiny; for, ardently as I love him, I will never marry him but with her approbation.

I have a thousand anxious fears for my Rivers's safety: may heaven protect him from the dangers his Emily has escaped!

I have but a moment to write, a s.h.i.+p being under way which is bound to Quebec; a gentleman, who is just going off in a boat to the s.h.i.+p, takes the care of this.

May every happiness attend my dear girl. Say every thing affectionate for me to Captain Fermor and Mr. Fitzgerald.

Adieu! Yours, Emily Montague.

LETTER 162.

To Miss Fermor, at Silleri.

London, July 19.

I got to town last night, my dear, and am at a friend's, from whence I have this morning sent to Mrs. Rivers; I every moment expect her answer; my anxiety of mind is not to be expressed; my heart sinks; I almost dread the return of my messenger.

If the affections, my dear friend, give us the highest happiness of which we are capable, they are also the source of our keenest misery; what I feel at this instant, is not to be described: I have been near resolving to go into the country without seeing or sending to Mrs.

Rivers. If she should receive me with coldness--why should I have exposed myself to the chance of such a reception? It would have been better to have waited for Rivers's arrival; I have been too precipitate; my warmth of temper has misled me: what had I to do to seek his family? I would give the world to retract my message, though it was only to let her know I was arrived; that her son was well, and that she might every hour expect him in England.

There is a rap at the door: I tremble I know not why; the servant comes up, he announces Mr. and Mrs. Temple: my heart beats, they are at the door.

One o'clock.

They are gone, and return for me in an hour; they insist on my dining with them, and tell me Mrs. Rivers is impatient to see me.

Nothing was ever so polite, so delicate, so affectionate, as the behaviour of both; they saw my confusion, and did every thing to remove it: they enquired after Rivers, but without the least hint of the dear interest I take in him: they spoke of the happiness of knowing me: they asked my friends.h.i.+p, in a manner the most flattering that can be imagined. How strongly does Mrs. Temple, my dear, resemble her amiable brother! her eyes have the same sensibility, the same pleasing expression; I think I scarce ever saw so charming a woman; I love her already; I feel a tenderness for her, which is inconceivable; I caught myself two or three times looking at her, with an attention for which I blushed.

How dear to me is every friend of my Rivers!

I believe, there was something very foolish in my behaviour; but they had the good-breeding and humanity not to seem to observe it.

I had almost forgot to tell you, they said every thing obliging and affectionate of you and Captain Fermor.

My mind is in a state not to be described; I feel joy, I feel anxiety, I feel doubt, I feel a timidity I cannot conquer, at the thought of seeing Mrs. Rivers.

I have to dress; therefore must finish this when I return.

Twelve at night.

I am come back, my dearest Bell; I have gone through the scene I so much dreaded, and am astonished I should ever think of it but with pleasure. How much did I injure this most amiable of women! Her reception of me was that of a tender parent, who had found a long-lost child; she kissed me, she pressed me to her bosom; her tears flowed in abundance; she called me her daughter, her other Lucy: she asked me a thousand questions of her son; she would know all that concerned him, however minute: how he looked, whether he talked much of her, what were his amus.e.m.e.nts; whether he was as handsome as when he left England.

I answered her with some hesitation, but with a pleasure that animated my whole soul; I believe, I never appeared to such advantage as this day.

You will not ascribe it to an unmeaning vanity, when I tell you, I never took such pains to please; I even gave a particular attention to my dress, that I might, as much as possible, justify my Rivers's tenderness: I never was vain for myself; but I am so for him: I am indifferent to admiration as Emily Montague; but as the object of his love, I would be admired by all the world; I wish to be the first of my s.e.x in all that is amiable and lovely, that I might make a sacrifice worthy of my Rivers, in shewing to all his friends, that he only can inspire me with tenderness, that I live for him alone.

Mrs. Rivers pressed me extremely to pa.s.s a month with her: my heart yielded too easily to her request; but I had courage to resist my own wishes, as well as her solicitations; and shall set out in three days for Berks.h.i.+re: I have, however, promised to go with them to-morrow, on a party to Richmond, which Mr. Temple was so obliging as to propose on my account.

Late as the season is, there is one more s.h.i.+p going to Quebec, which sails to-morrow.

You shall hear from me again in a few days by the packet.

Adieu! my dearest friend!

Your faithful Emily Montague.

Surely it will not be long before Rivers arrives; you, my dear Bell, will judge what must be my anxiety till that moment.

LETTER 163.

To Captain Fermor, at Silleri.

Dover, July 24, eleven o'clock.