The shore is fill’d with a multitude of people.—What sights will they gaze on to satisfy their curiosity!—a curiosity that makes human nature shrink.
I have got three matronly women to go with the undertaker, that the body may be taken up with decency.
Darcey lives;—but how does he live?—Without sense; almost without motion.
God protect the good old steward!—the worthy Jenkings!—He is with you before this;—he has told you everything. I could not write by him:—I thought I should never be able to touch a pen again.—He had left Dover before the body was found.—What conflicts did he escape! But as it is, I fear his grey hairs will go down with sorrow to the grave.—God support us all!
Captain RISBY to the Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH.
My heart bleeds afresh—Her body found! Good heaven!—it must not,—shall not come to the knowledge of the family.—At present they submit with a degree of resignation.—Who knows but a latent hope might remain?—Instances have been known of many saved from wrecks;—but her body is drove on shore.—Not a glimmering;—possibility is now out of the question.—The family are determin’d to shut themselves out from the world;—no company ever more to be admitted;—never to go any where but to the church.—Your letter was deliver’d me before them.—I was ask’d tenderly for poor Lord Darcey.—What could I answer?—Near the same; not worse, on the whole.—They flatter themselves he will recover;—I encourage all their flattering hopes.
Mrs. Jenkings has never been home since Mr. Morgan fetch’d her;—Mr. Jenkings too is constantly here;—sometimes Edmund:—except the unhappy parents, never was grief like theirs.
Mr. Jenkings has convinc’d me it was Miss Powis which I saw at ——. Strange reverse of fortune since that hour!
When the family are retir’d I spend many melancholy hours with poor Edmund;—and from him have learnt the reason why Mr. Powis conceal’d his marriage,—which is now no secret.—Even Edmund never knew it till Mr. and Mrs. Powis return’d to England,—Take a short recital:—it will help to pass away a gloomy moment.
When Mr. Powis left the University, he went for a few months to Ireland with the Lord-Lieutenant; and at his return intended to make the Grand Tour.—In the mean time, Sir James and Lady Powis contract an intimacy with a young Lady of quality, in the bloom of life, but not of beauty.—By what I can gather, Lady Mary Sutton is plain to a degree,—with a mind—But why speak of her mind?—let that speak for itself.