As I have promis’d to be at the Abbey early, I shall close this letter; and, if I have an opportunity, will write another by the same packet.—Believe me ever, my dearest Lady, your most grateful and affectionate
SERIES of LETTERS.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
Miss WARLEY to Lady MARY SUTTON.
from Mr. Jenkings’s.
Oh what a designing man is Lord Darcey!—He loves me not, yet fain would persuade me that he does.—When I went yesterday morning to the Abbey, I met him in my way to Lady Powis’s dressing-room.—Starting as if he had seen an apparition, and with a look which express’d great importance, he said, taking my hand, Oh! Miss Warley, I have had the most dreadful night!—but I hope you have rested well.
I have rested very well, my Lord; what has disturb’d your Lordship’s rest?
What, had it been real as it was visionary, would have drove me to madness.—I dreamt, Miss Warley,—I dreamt every thing I was possess’d of was torn from me;—but now—and here stopt.
Well, my Lord, and did not the pleasure of being undeceiv’d overpay all the pain which you had been deceiv’d into?
No, my angel!—Why does he call me his angel?
Why, no: I have such a sinking, such a load on my mind, to reflect it is possible,—only possible it might happen, that, upon my word, it has been almost too much for me.
Ah! my Lord, you are certainly wrong to anticipate evils; they come fast enough, one need not run to meet them:—besides, if your Lordship had been in reality that very unfortunate creature, you dreamt you were, for no rank or degree is proof against the caprice of Fortune,—was nothing to be preserv’d entire?—Fortune can require only what she gave: fortitude, peace, and resignation, are not her gifts.
Oh! Miss Warley, you mistake: it was not riches I fancied myself dispossess’d of;—it was, oh my God!—what my peace, my very soul is center’d in!—and his eyes turn’d round with so wild a stare, that really I began to suspect his head.
I trembled so I could scarce reach the dressing-room, though just at the door.—The moment I turn’d from him, he flew like lightning over the stairs; and soon after, I saw him walking with Sir James on the terrace. By their gestures I could discover their conversation was not a common one.
Mr. Morgan comes this instant in sight;—a servant after him, leading my little horse.—I am sorry to break off, but I must attend him;—he is so good, I know your Ladyship would be displeas’d, was I to prolong my letter at the expence of his favour.—Yours, my much honour’d,—my much lov’d Lady,—with all gratitude, with all affection,