Love and Freindship and Other Delusions

by Beth Andrews

  “But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband’s death?”

  “No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in my Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, and yourself are the only persons who are in the knowledge of my having ever been either Wife or Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the name of Dashwood (a name which after my Henry’s death I could never hear without emotion) and as I was conscious of having no right to that of Annesley, I dropt all thoughts of either, and have made it a point of bearing only my Christian one since my Father’s death.” She paused—”Oh! my dear Miss Jane (said I) how infinitely am I obliged to you for so entertaining a story! You cannot think how it has diverted me! But have you quite done?”

  “I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry’s elder Brother dieing about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like myself, and as we had always loved each other in idea from the high Character in which we had ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we determined to live together. We wrote to one another on the same subject by the same post, so exactly did our feeling and our actions coincide! We both eagerly embraced the proposals we gave and received of becoming one family, and have from that time lived together in the greatest affection.”

  “And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done.”

  “Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?”

  “I never did—and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for when one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one’s sensations as to hear of equal misery.”

  “Ah! but my Sophia why are YOU unhappy?”

  “Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby’s Marriage?”

  “But my love why lament HIS perfidy, when you bore so well that of many young Men before?”

  “Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year.”

  “Poor Girl!” said Miss Jane.

  LETTER the THIRD From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind

  A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. As my Mother never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady Greville who did me the honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me to sit forwards, which is a favour about which I am very indifferent especially as I know it is considered as confering a great obligation on me “So Miss Maria (said her Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the door of the Carriage) you seem very smart to night—MY poor Girls will appear quite to disadvantage by YOU—I only hope your Mother may not have distressed herself to set YOU off. Have you got a new Gown on?”

  “Yes Ma’am.” replied I with as much indifference as I could assume.

  “Aye, and a fine one too I think—(feeling it, as by her permission I seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very smart—But I must own, for you know I always speak my mind, that I think it was quite a needless piece of expence—Why could not you have worn your old striped one? It is not my way to find fault with People because they are poor, for I always think that they are more to be despised and pitied than blamed for it, especially if they cannot help it, but at the same time I must say that in my opinion your old striped Gown would have been quite fine enough for its Wearer—for to tell you the truth (I always speak my mind) I am very much afraid that one half of the people in the room will not know whether you have a Gown on or not—But I suppose you intend to make your fortune to night—. Well, the sooner the better; and I wish you success.”

  “Indeed Ma’am I have no such intention—”

  “Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?” Miss Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me.

  “Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?” said her Ladyship.

  “Dear Ma’am, said Ellen it is but nine o’clock.”

  “True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise to be extravagant.”

  “She was just sitting down to supper Ma’am.”

  “And what had she got for supper?” “I did not observe.” “Bread and Cheese I suppose.” “I should never wish for a better supper.” said Ellen. “You have never any reason replied her Mother, as a better is always provided for you.” Miss Greville laughed excessively, as she constantly does at her Mother’s wit.

  Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear while riding in her Ladyship’s Coach—I dare not be impertinent, as my Mother is always admonishing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my way in the world. She insists on my accepting every invitation of Lady Greville, or you may be certain that I would never enter either her House, or her Coach with the disagreable certainty I always have of being abused for my Poverty while I am in them.—When we arrived at Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o’clock, which was an hour and a half later than we were desired to be there; but Lady Greville is too fashionable (or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The Dancing however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr Bernard, but just as we were going to stand up, he recollected that his Servant had got his white Gloves, and immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean time the Dancing began and Lady Greville in passing to another room went exactly before me—She saw me and instantly stopping, said to me though there were several people close to us,

  “Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young Lady! I am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do not despair; perhaps you may get a hop before the Evening is over.” So saying, she passed on without hearing my repeated assurance of being engaged, and leaving me very much provoked at being so exposed before every one—Mr Bernard however soon returned and by coming to me the moment he entered the room, and leading me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared from the imputation Lady Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all the old Ladies who had heard her speech. I soon forgot all my vexations in the pleasure of dancing and of having the most agreable partner in the room. As he is moreover heir to a very large Estate I could see that Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she found who had been his Choice—She was determined to mortify me, and accordingly when we were sitting down between the dances, she came to me with more than her usual insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and said loud enough to be heard by half the people in the room, “Pray Miss Maria in what way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and I cannot agree whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder.” I saw that she wanted to mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent her seeing that her scheme succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine Merchant.” “Aye, I knew he was in some such low way—He broke did not he?” “I beleive not Ma’am.” “Did not he abscond?” “I never heard that he did.” “At least he died insolvent?” “I was never told so before.” “Why, was not your FATHER as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” “Was not he in the Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him there.” She gave me SUCH a look, and turned away in a great passion; while I was half delighted with myself for my impertinence, and half afraid of being thought too saucy. As Lady Greville was extremely angry with me, she took no further notice of me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in favour I should have been equally neglected, as she was got into a Party of great folks and she never speaks to me when she can to anyone else. Miss Greville was with her Mother’s party at supper, but Ellen preferred staying with the Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant Dance and as Lady G—slept all the way home, I had a very comfortable ride.

  The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville’s Coach stopped at the door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it should. She sent in a message by the servant to say that “she should not get out but that Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she wanted to speak to her, and that she must make haste and come immediately—” “What an impertinent Message Mama!” said I—”Go Maria—” replied she—Accordingly I went and was ob
liged to stand there at her Ladyships pleasure though the Wind was extremely high and very cold.

  “Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last night—But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that you may dine with us the day after tomorrow—Not tomorrow, remember, do not come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas Stanley’s family—There will be no occasion for your being very fine for I shant send the Carriage—If it rains you may take an umbrella—” I could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me leave to keep myself dry—”And pray remember to be in time, for I shant wait—I hate my Victuals over-done—But you need not come before the time—How does your Mother do? She is at dinner is not she?” “Yes Ma’am we were in the middle of dinner when your Ladyship came.” “I am afraid you find it very cold Maria.” said Ellen. “Yes, it is an horrible East wind—said her Mother—I assure you I can hardly bear the window down—But you are used to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made your Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often ride in a Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the wind shews your legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as you do in such a day as this. But some sort of people have no feelings either of cold or Delicacy—Well, remember that we shall expect you on Thursday at 5 o’clock—You must tell your Maid to come for you at night—There will be no Moon—and you will have an horrid walk home—My compts to Your Mother—I am afraid your dinner will be cold—Drive on—” And away she went, leaving me in a great passion with her as she always does. Maria Williams.

  LETTER the FOURTH From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind

  We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her appearance, for added to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and voice had something peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that they inspired me with a great curiosity to know the history of her Life, who were her Parents, where she came from, and what had befallen her, for it was then only known that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn, and that her name was Grenville. In the evening a favourable opportunity offered to me of attempting at least to know what I wished to know, for every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr Drayton, Miss Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged in a whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of necessity obliged to entertain each other. This was what I wished and being determined not to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began the Conversation in the following Manner.

  “Have you been long in Essex Ma’am?”

  “I arrived on Tuesday.”

  “You came from Derbyshire?”

  “No, Ma’am! appearing surprised at my question, from Suffolk.” You will think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you know that I am not wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. “Are you pleased with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to the one you have left?”

  “Much superior Ma’am in point of Beauty.” She sighed. I longed to know for why.

  “But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a poor consolation for the loss of one’s dearest Freinds.” She shook her head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much raised, that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it.

  “You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?” “Indeed I do.” “You were born there I suppose?” “Yes Ma’am I was and passed many happy years there—”

  “That is a great comfort—said I—I hope Ma’am that you never spent any unhappy one’s there.”

  “Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a right to expect uninterrupted Happiness.—Some Misfortunes I have certainly met with.”

  “WHAT Misfortunes dear Ma’am? replied I, burning with impatience to know every thing. “NONE Ma’am I hope that have been the effect of any wilfull fault in me.” “I dare say not Ma’am, and have no doubt but that any sufferings you may have experienced could arise only from the cruelties of Relations or the Errors of Freinds.” She sighed—” You seem unhappy my dear Miss Grenville—Is it in my power to soften your Misfortunes?” “YOUR power Ma’am replied she extremely surprised; it is in NO ONES power to make me happy.” She pronounced these words in so mournfull and solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage to reply. I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few moments and looking at her with all the affection I could, “My dear Miss Grenville said I, you appear extremely young—and may probably stand in need of some one’s advice whose regard for you, joined to superior Age, perhaps superior Judgement might authorise her to give it. I am that person, and I now challenge you to accept the offer I make you of my Confidence and Freindship, in return to which I shall only ask for yours—”

  “You are extremely obliging Ma’am—said she—and I am highly flattered by your attention to me—But I am in no difficulty, no doubt, no uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever I am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall know where to apply.”

  I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still however I had not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of sentiment and Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined therefore to renew my attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do you intend staying long in this part of England Miss Grenville?”

  “Yes Ma’am, some time I beleive.”

  “But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?”

  “They are neither of them alive Ma’am.” This was an answer I did not expect—I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my Life—-.

  LETTER the FIFTH From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind

  My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love every day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I had this morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from my dear Musgrove.

  Sackville St: Janry 7th It is a month to day since I first beheld my lovely Henrietta, and the sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in a manner becoming the day—by writing to her. Never shall I forget the moment when her Beauties first broke on my sight—No time as you well know can erase it from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature first entered the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight of you was like the sight ofa wonderful fine Thing. I started—I gazed at her with admiration—She appeared every moment more Charming, and the unfortunate Musgrove became a captive to your Charms before I had time to look about me. Yes Madam, I had the happiness of adoring you, an happiness for which I cannot be too grateful. “What said he to himself is Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? Enviable Mortal! and may he pine for her who is the object of universal admiration, who is adored by a Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful you are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mortal. You are an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are the prettiest Girl I ever saw in my Life—and her Beauty is encreased in her Musgroves Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. And ah! Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do hope for the death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since my fair one will not consent to be mine till their decease has placed her in affluence above what my fortune can procure—. Though it is an improvable Estate—. Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I am at Present with my sister where I mean to continue till my own house which tho’ an excellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is ready to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell—Of that Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your most ardent Admirer and devoted humble servt. T. Musgrove.

  There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such a master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of Th
ought, such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet? No, never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with by every Girl. Oh! how I long to be with him! I intend to send him the following in answer to his Letter tomorrow.

  My dearest Musgrove—. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made me; I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than any body in the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest Man in England, and so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a Letter in my Life. Do write me another just like it, and tell me you are in love with me in every other line. I quite die to see you. How shall we manage to see one another? for we are so much in love that we cannot live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think how impatiently I wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt—If they will not Die soon, I beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you every day of my Life.

  How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her house, and how happy every body in London must be because you are there. I hope you will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I never read such sweet Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most truly and faithfully yours for ever and ever Henrietta Halton.

  I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write though nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at a Love-letter. I saw him you know for the first time at Lady Scudamores—And when I saw her Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I liked her Cousin Musgrove?

  “Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man.”

  “I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love with you.”

  “Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?”