Ever, as ever, dearest Eleanor, your affectionate
friend. F. A.
From the same to the same.
Eleanor, I am undone! My mother—my
mother has been so cruel; but she cannot, she cannot
intend it, or she knows very little of my heart.
With some ties may be as easily broken as formed; with
others they are twined around life itself.
Clarence dined with us yesterday, and was unusually
animated and agreeable. He was engaged on business
with Lord Aspeden afterwards, and left us early.
We had a few people in the evening, Lord Borodaile
among the rest; and my mother spoke of Clarence, and
his relationship to and expectations from Mr. Talbot.
Lord Borodaile sneered; “You are mistaken,”
said he, sarcastically; “Mr. Linden may feel
it convenient to give out that he is related to so
old a family as the Talbots; and since Heaven only
knows who or what he is, he may as well claim alliance
with one person as another; but he is certainly not
the nephew of Mr. Talbot of Scarsdale Park, for that
gentleman had no sisters and but one brother, who
left an only daughter; that daughter had also but
one child, certainly no relation to Mr. Linden.
I can vouch for the truth of this statement; for
the Talbots are related to, or at least nearly connected
with, myself; and I thank Heaven that I have a pedigree,
even in its collateral branches, worth learning by
heart.” And then Lord Borodaile—I
little thought, when I railed against him, what serious
cause I should have to hate him—turned to
me and harassed me with his tedious attentions the
whole of the evening.
This morning Mamma sent for me into her boudoir.
“I have observed,” said she, with the
greatest indifference, “that Mr. Linden has,
of late, been much too particular in his manner towards
you: your foolish and undue familiarity with
every one has perhaps given him encouragement.
After the gross imposition which Lord Borodaile exposed
to us last night, I cannot but consider the young man
as a mere adventurer, and must not only insist on
your putting a total termination to civilities which
we must henceforth consider presumption, but I myself
shall consider it incumbent upon me greatly to limit
the advances he has thought proper to make towards
my acquaintance.”
You may guess how thunderstruck I was by this speech.
I could not answer; my tongue literally clove to
my mouth, and I was only relieved by a sudden and
violent burst of tears. Mamma looked exceedingly
displeased, and was just going to speak, when the servant
threw open the door and announced Mr. Linden.
I rose hastily, and had only just time to escape,
as he entered; but when I heard that dear, dear voice,
I could not resist turning for one moment. He
saw me; and was struck mute, for the agony of my soul
was stamped visibly on my countenance. That moment
was over: with a violent effort I tore myself
away.
