Barford Abbey eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 142 pages of information about Barford Abbey.

Mr. Powis to the Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH.

London,

“The first moment I can tear myself from the tender embraces of all my hopes;—­the first moment I can leave my belov’d daughter, I come to Dover;—­I come to acknowledge my gratitude to the noble-minded Molesworth—­I come to testify my affection to the generous, disinterested Lord Darcey.—­We pray for the recovery of his.  Lordship’s health.—­When that is establish’d, not one wish will be wanting to complete the felicity of

J. Powis.”

The more I know of this family, the more I admire them.—­I must be their neighbour, that’s certain—­Suppose I petition for a little spot at one end of the park; suppose you throw up your commission; and we live together two snug batchelors.

Darcey vows he will go to Town next week.—­If fatigue should cause him to relapse, what will become of us then?—­But I will not think of that now.

We shall come down a joyful, cavalcade to the Abbey.—­I long to see the doors thrown open to receive us.—­School-boy like, I shall first count days;—­next hours;—­then minutes:  though I am your’s the same here, there, and every where.

MOLESWORTH.

LETTER XLI

The Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH to the same.

London.

Build in the park, and live batchelors!—­Pish!—­A horrid scheme!—­I give it up.—­Over head and ears, Dick!

Last Monday arriv’d at his Lordship’s house in St. James’s-Square, the Right Honourable the Earl and Countess of Hampstead,—­Lord Hallum,—­the Ladies Elizabeth and Sophia Curtis.

True, as I hope to be sav’d;—­and as true, that Lady Elizabeth and Sophia are blooming as angels.

Three times have I sat down, pen in my hand, paper folded, yet could not tune my mind to write one word.—­Over head and ears!  I say.—­

Past one in the morning!—­All silent!  Let me try if I can scribble now.

First, I must tell you the body drove on shore at Dover, which I concluded was Miss Powis’s, is discover’d to be a Miss Frances Walsh, going over in the yacht which was unfortunately cast-away;—­the corpse much defac’d:—­but what confirm’d it to be the body of Miss Powis, was a handkerchief taken from the neck mark’d F W.—­Poor young Lady! her friends, perhaps are suffering the excesses of grief which you and I have so lately witness’d.—­But this is a subject I shall not dwell on.

I came to Town this evening with Darcey:—­he bore the journey very poorly;—­sinking, fainting, all the way.—­When we got to our lodgings, and he was put into a bed, recovering a little, he press’d me to go to the Banker’s.—­I saw his impatience, and went immediately.

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
Barford Abbey from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
Follow Us on Facebook