LETTER CCXLIX.

LADY G TO MISS BYRON.

Saturday, Nov. 11.

I WRITE a few lines, if, writing to you, I can write a few, by the special messenger that carries down all the remaining apparatus which was committed to my care. We women are sad creatures for delaying things to the last moment. We hurry the men: we hurry our workmen, milliners, mantua-makers, friends, allies, confederates, and ourselves. When once we have given the day, night and day, we neither take rest, nor give it: When, if we had the rare felicity of knowing our minds sooner, all might go on fair and softly. But then the gentle passion, I doubt, would glide into insipidity. Well, and I have heard my brother say, That things in general are best as they are." Why I believe so; for all these honest souls, as mantua-makers, attire-women, work-women, enjoy a hurry that is occasioned by a wedding, and are half as well pleased with it, as if it were their own. They simper, smirk, gossip, over bridal finery; spread this on their arms or shoulders; admire that-Look you here-Look you there! And is not this?—Is not that ?—And, did you ever!— No, never, in my born days!—And is the bride, do you say, such a lovely creature?-And is the bridegroom as handsome a man, as she a woman?-O lud! O dear!-Would to Heaven Northamptonshire were nearer! that one might see how charming, how graceful, how becoming -and so forth.

And why should not we women, after all, contrive to make hurry-skurries, [You see how I correct myself as I go along, and make the world think our affairs a great part of the business of it, and that nothing can be done without us? Since, after a few months are over, new novelties take place, and we get into corners, sigh, groan, look silly and meagre, and at last are thrown into straw, as it is called; Poor Caroline's case; who repines, that she cannot be present on this new bustle in the family. But I am to acquaint her with everything by pen and ink-Look to your behaviour, Harriet, on the great occasion.

But a word about Caroline-Were it not for her being deprived of this pleasure, the good creature would be very happy. Lord Land she are as fond as apes. She has quite forgot all her sufferings for him. He thanks her for his boy. She follows with her eye the little stranger, and is delighted with all that is done with him, to him, for him.-Is pleased with everybody, even with the very servants, who crowd in, by permission, to see his little lordship, and already claim an interest in him. Up

on my word, she makes a very pretty, fond mother. And Aunt Nell, who, by the way, was at the crying-out, and was then so frightened! so thankful to God! and so happy in her own situation, [No, not for the world would she be other than she was! now grudges the nurses half their cares.

What good creatures are we women!

Well, but I don't know what to do about Emily. The first vice of the first woman was curiosity, and it runs through all her daughters. She has written to her guardian, and nothing but an absolute prohibition will hinder her from making one in your train. Did the dear girl know the state of her own heart, she would choose to be a thousand miles off, rather than go. I have set her woman and mine to discourage her. I have reasoned with her myself; but there is no such thing as giving her one's true reasons; nor would I, willingly: Because she herself, having not found out her love to be love, I hope the fire may be smothered in her own heart, by the aid of time and discretion, before discovery; whereas, if the doors of it were to be opened, and the air let in, it might set the whole tenement in a blaze. Her guardian's denial or assent will come, perhaps, in time; yet hardly, neither; for we shall set out on Monday. Aunt Nell is so pleased with her nursery of the little peer, as she primly calls him, that you are rid of even her wishes to be with you. Being sure of this, I told her, that your aunt had hinted to me her design to invite her in form; but that I had let you know, that Lady Lwould not be able to live without her company, all the world, and the world's wife, attentive and engrossed by your affair. She, good creature! was pleased-So as she could but be thought of importance, by somebody, I knew she would be happy. I told her that you invited nobody, but left all to your friends-Ay, poor dear soul, said she; she has enough to think of, well as she loves your brother-And sighed for you-Worthy ancient! The sigh a little deeper, perhaps, for some of her own recollections.

Mr and Mrs Reeves would not stay for us. What will you do with us all?-Crowd you, I fear.

But dispose of us at Shirley-Manor, or Selby-House, as you please. Yours, and Aunt Selby's and grandmamma Shirley's concern for us, is all we are solicitous about. But servants' rooms, nay cocklofts, haylofts, will do. We like to be put to our shifts, now and then-Something to talk of—

But I can tell you, if you don't know it already, Lord W and his lady are resolved to do you honour on this occasion; but they will be but little trouble to you. My lord's steward has a half-brother, a gentleman farmer, in your neighbourhood-Sheldon-They will be there: But perhaps you know of this a better way.

Lord L- has just now told me, that my sister, in tenderness to him, and in honour to you, has besought him to be present. O Harriet! what will you do with yourself?-Aunt Nell and I have the heart-burn for you. But Lord L- must be welcome: He is one of those who so faithfully kept your secret.

So, in our equipages, will be Lord L, my honest man, Emily, and your Charlotte: Lord L's equipages will be at the service of any of your guests; as will our spare one-I wish Beauchamp could permit himself to be present (I hope he will) on the nuptials of the friend so dear to him, with a lady he so greatly

admires.

My woman and Emily's will be all our female attendants: One nook will serve them both.

My poor man will be mad, before the day comes. He does love you, Harriet. My brother, he says, will be the happiest man in the world -himself excepted-A hypocrite! He just popt this in, to save himself Why dost make this exception, friend? said I-Thou knowest it to be a mere compliment-Indeed, indeed (two indeeds, which implied, that one might have been doubted,) I am now [A sarcasm in his word now as happy as mortal man can be-Ah, flatterer! and shook my head-A recognition of my sovereignty, however, in his being afraid to speak his conscience. A little of the old leaven, Harriet !-I can't help it. It is got out of my heart, half out of my head; but, when I take the pen, it will tingle, now and then, at my finger's end.

Adieu, my love!-God bless you !—I can enter into your joy. A love so pure, and so fervent. The man Sir Charles Grandison. And into your pain, also, in a view of a solemnity so near, and to you so awful. With all my roguery, I sympathize with you. I have not either a wicked or unfeeling heart. Such as yours, however, are the true spirits ; such as mine, are only bully and flash.

Lucy, you are a good girl. I like the whim of your concluding for Harriet. I also like your tenants' dining-room, and other managements, as the affair must unavoidably be a public one. Neither of you say a word of good Mr Deane. I hope he is with you. He cannot be a cypher wherever he comes, except on the right side of the figure, to increase its consequence. Don't be afraid of your uncle ; I, I, I will manage him, never fear.

There are other passages, Harriet, in your last letter, which I ought to have answered to→ But forgive me, my dear! I had laid it by, (though pleased with it in the main ;) and, having answered the most material part, by dispatching your things, forgot it as much as if I had not received it, till the moment I came to

riet.

CH. G

LETTER CCL.

MISS JERVOIS TO SIR CHARLES GRANDISON.

Friday, Nov. 10.

No sooner, dear and honoured sir, is one boon granted me, but I have another to beg; yet I blush as I write, for my troublesomeness. I told you, sir, I had furnished myself with new clothes, on a very joyful occasion-Indeed it is on a very joyful occasion. You would lay me under a new obligation to your goodness, if you would be pleased to allow me to attend Lady Gin her journey down. I shall know, by this fresh favour, that you have quite forgiven your dutiful ward. I presume not to add another word-But I dare say, dear Miss Byron, that now is, will not be against it, if you are not-God bless you, my honoured, good sirBut God, I hope, I am sure, will bless you; and so shall I, as surely I ought, whether you grant this favour, or not, to

Your ever-obliged, and grateful
EMILY JERVOIS.

LETTER CCLI.

SIR CHARLES GRANDISON TO MISS JERVOIS.

Sunday, Nov. 12.

It would give me great pain to deny to my good Miss Jervois the grant of any request she shall think fit to make to me. You shall know, you say, by the grant of this favour, that I have quite forgiven my ward-Was such a test wanted, my dear? I assure you, that what you have lately done for your mother, though I was not consulted in it, has heightened my opinion of the worthiness of your heart.

As to your request, I have pleasure in leaving everything relating to the happy event to my beloved Miss Byron and her friends. I will entreat her to underwrite her mind on this subject. She grieves that the solemnity cannot be private; which, beloved as she is in this neighbourhood, would be vain to attempt.

If her aunt has no objection from want of room, there cannot, my dear Emily, be any from

Your affectionate and true friend,
CHARLES GRANDISON.
[Underwritten.]

My dearest Miss Jervois will excuse me that

LETTER CCLII.

LADY GTO LADY L

Selby-House, Tuesday, Nov. 14. WELL, my sister, my friend, my dear Lady L, how do you? As well as can be expect ed, I hope: the answer of a thousand years old, to every inquirer, careful or ceremonious. And how does my dear little boy? As well as can be expected, too-I am glad of it.

Here we are!-Everybody well, and happy. I was afraid my brother would have looked more polite upon us than familiar, as he invited us not: But, no!-He was all himself, as Harriet says. He met us at the coach-door. He handed out his ward. She could not speak. Tears were in her eyes. I could have beat her with my fan. He kissed her cheek. My dear child, I thank you most sincerely for your goodness to your mother.

I was afraid that her joy would then have been too much for her. She expanded, she collected, her plumes. Her spread arms (soon, however, closed) shewed me, that she with difficulty restrained herself from falling at his feet. He turned from her to me. My best Charlotte, how do you? The journey, I hope, has not incommoded you? He led me out, and, taking each of the honest men by the hand, My dear lords, you do me honour. He then congratulated Lord L on the present you had made him, and the family.

At the inner gate met us our sweet Harriet, with joy upon one brow, half the cares of this mortal life on the other. She led us into the cedar-parlour, (my brother returning to welcome in the two honest men,) and threw her arms about my neck-My dearest Lady G,

how much does your presence rejoice me!—I hope (and looked at me) your journey-Be quiet, Harriet. You must not think so much of these matters, my love. She was a little abashed. Don't be afraid of me; I will be very good, said I. Then will I be very thankful, replied she.

My lovely Emily, turning to her: how does my sweet friend? Welcome, once more, to Selby-House.

The girl's heart was full. She (thanking her only by a deep curtsey) abruptly withdrew to the window; and, trying for a third hem, in hopes to stifle her emotion, it broke into a halfsob, and tears followed.

Harriet and I looked; she compassionately, I vexedly, I believe; and both shook our heads at each other.

Take no notice, said I, seeing Harriet move towards the window to her-It will go off of itself. Her joy to see her Harriet, that's all.

But I must take notice, (for she found that Emily heard her,)-My dear Emily, my lovely young friend-why

I will tell you, madam, interrupted she, and threw her arms about Harriet's neck, as Harriet (sitting in the window) clasped hers about her waist; and I will tell you truth, and nothing but the truth-You wrote so cool to me, about my coming-And yet I to come! But I could not help it—And I thought you now looked a little severely upon me-But love, and, I will say, duty to you, my dearest Miss Byron, AND NOTHING ELSE, made me so earnest to come. Say you forgive me.

Forgive you, my dearest Emily!—I had only your sake, my dear, in view. If I wrote with less warmth than you expected, forgive me.

Consider my situation, my love. You are,― and ever will be, welcome to me. Your griefs, your joys are mine-Give me which you please. The girl burst into fresh tears-I, I, I am now as unable, sobbed she, to bear your goodness, as before I was your displeasure-But hide, hide me! Here comes my guardian !What now, when he sees me thus, will become of me?

She heard his voice at the door, leading in the two lords; and they followed by Mr Selby, Mrs Selby, Lucy, Nancy.

Sir Charles went to the two young ladies. Harriet kept her seat, her arms folded about Emily.

Sweet emotion! said he; my Emily in tears of joy!

What a charming picture!-O my Miss Byron, how does your tenderness to this amiable child oblige me! I sever you not; clasping his generous arms about them both.

I have afflicted my dear Emily, sir, without intending it. I wrote coldly, my precious young friend thinks; and her love for me makes her sweetly sensible of my supposed ingratitude.

But believe me, my dear, I love you with a true sisterly tenderness.

I took the dear girl aside, and gently expostulated with her upon the childishness of her behaviour, and the uneasiness she would give to Miss Byron, as well as to herself, by repetitions of the like weakness of mind.

She promised fair; but, Lady L- -, I wish there were more of the child, and less of the woman, in this affair. Poor thing! she was very thankful for my advice, and expressed how wrong she was, because it might discourage her guardian and Miss Byron, that now was, from letting her live with them: But for my life, said she, whatever was the matter with me, I could not help my foolishness.

Miss Nancy Selby took Emily up with her; and uncle Selby and I had a little lively hit at each other, in the old style. We drew my brother in. I had not tried his strength a good while: but, as Harriet said in one of the sauciest letters she ever wrote, I soon found he was the wrong person to meddle with. Yet he is such a charming rallier, that I wonder he can resist his talent. No wonder, Harriet would say; because he has talents so superior to that which, he says, runs away with his poor sister.

Emily came down to us very composed, and behaved prettily enough: but had my brother as much mannish vanity as some of the sorry fellows have, who have no pretence for it, he would discern the poor Emily's foible to have some little susceptibility in it. I am glad he does not; for it would grieve him. I have already told him of the sufferings of poor Lady Anne S, on her hearing he is near marriage; and he expressed great concern upon it for that really worthy woman.

Mr Reeves, his wife, and Mr Deane, were abroad when we arrived. They came in to tea. Our mutual congratulations on the expected happy event, cheered our own hearts, and would have delighted yours. Charming, charming is the behaviour of my brother to his bride-elect. - You can have no notion of it; because at Colnebrook we always saw him acting under a restraint; owing, as since we have found, to honour, conscience, and a prior love.

He diverts and turns the course of subjects that he thinks would be affecting to her; yet in such a manner, as it is hardly perceivable to be his intention to do so: for he makes something of the begun ones contribute to the new ones; so that, before uncle Selby is aware of it, he finds himself in one that he had not in his head when he set out.-And then he comes with his "What a pize was I going to say? But this is not what I had in my head." And then, as my brother knows he misses his scent, only because it has not afforded the merry mortal something to laugh at, he furnishes him with some lively and innocent occasion, which produces that effect, and then Mr Selby is satisfied. Mrs Selby

and Lucy see how my brother manages him, and are pleased with it; for it is so delicately done, that something arises from it that keeps the honest man in credit with himself and with everybody else, for his good humour, good heart, and those other qualities which make him in his worst subjects tolerable, and in his best valuable.

Venerable Mrs Shirley is to be here all tomorrow and next day. Mr Deane has chosen Shirley-Manor for his abode, for the time he stays; so has James Selby, in order to make more room at Selby-House for us women. There, too, Mr and Mrs Reeves take up, of choice, their lodgings, though here all day.

Poor Harriet! She told me once, that fear makes cowards loving. She is so fond of me and Lucy, and her aunt, at times, it would be a sin not to pity her. Yet Lucy once tossed up her head, upon my saying so-Pity her! why, yes, I think I do, now you have put me in the head of it: but I don't know whether she is not more to be envied. Lucy is a polite girl. She loves her Harriet. But she knew I should be pleased with the compliment to my brother.

Harriet has just now looked in upon meWriting, Lady G. And of me?—To Lady L, I suppose?

She clasped her arms about me: Ah, madam!
Thursday! Thursday!
What of Thursday?"

Is the day after to-morrow!
Every child can tell that, Harriet.

Ah, but I, with such happiness before me, am sillier than a child!

Well, but I can tell you something, Harriet.
What is that?

That the next day to Thursday is FridayThe next day to that is Saturday-The nextPish! I shall stay no longer with you; giving me a gentle tap-1 would not have answered

you so.

Away she tript, desiring her affectionate compliments to dear Lady L

Let me see! Have I any more to write? I think not. But a call for supper makes me leave my paper unsubscribed.

EMILY behaved very prettily at supper; but it would have been as well, if she had not thought so herself: for she boasted of her behaviour afterwards to me. That made it look like an ertraordinary in her own account.

Mr Selby sung us a song, with a good foxhunter air. There is something very agreeable in his facetiousness; but it would become nobody else. I think you and I agreed at Dunstable, that he is a fine, jolly, hearty, handsomeish man-He looks shrewd, arch, open, a true country-gentleman aspect; what he says is so so-What he means is better. He is very fond

of your lord-But I think rather fonder of mine -A criterion, Lady L!

As for Lord G- he is in the situation of Harriet's Singleton-He is prepared to laugh the moment Mr Selby opens his mouth; especially when he twists his neck about, turns a glass upside down, and looks under his bent brows, at the company round, yet the table always in his eye: for then we know, that something is collected, and ready to burst forth.

Well, good night! good night! good night! -Has my godson elect done crying yet? What a deuce has he to cry at ? Unswaddled, unpinioned, unswathed, legs and arms at full liberty: but they say crying does good to the bratsopens their pipes-and so forth-But tell him, that if he does not learn to laugh, as well as to cry, he shall not be related to

CHARLOTTE G

LETTER CCLIII.

LADY G

[In continuation.]

Wednesday, Nov. 15. WEDNESDAY is come, and, as Harriet says, to-morrow is Thursday. Ah, Harriet! rich as content! poor as patience!

I have been talking to her: half-comforting her, half-laughing at her. She says, I am but half good.

All the world is come-Lord Wand his ever agreeable lady. Beauchamp, as I am alive, with them! I wish I could see this rogue Emily in love with him. He is certainly in love with

her.

"I know it-I know it!-Do you go down about your business."

Only Lord G-come to tell me what I knew before.

Harriet's gone down to be complimented. She has hardly spirits to compliment.

"Well, well, I'll only tell Lady Lwho is come. Does not the poor soul keep her bed? And are we not to be as complaisant to our ill friends, as our well?-I am coming, child."

Emily, with her pretty impertinence. Neither Lord G- nor Emily can be anything, when strangers come, and I stand not by them to shew their signification.

Deuce! a third messenger-O! Mrs Selby herself. I'll tell you more by and by, Lady L. "Your servant, Mrs Selby. I attend you."

THE two Misses Needham, Miss Watson, Miss Barclay, the two Misses Holles, Mr Deane.

So, so, so, Harriet, said I, what is the meaning of this?"-My uncle's doings! I have no spirits. Sir Charles should not have been so passive; he, and nobody else, could have prevailed upon my uncle. My aunt has held him in, till her arms ached. O the dear restiff man! She has now let go; and you see how he prances over the whole meadow, the reins upon his neck. Dear girl! said I, I am glad you are so fanciful.

I would fain be lively, if I could, said she. Never any creature had more reason, Lady G. My heart is all gratitude, and, I will say, love.

Good girl, hold up your head, my dear, and all will be as it should be.

Sir Charles staid to attend hither the most venerable of women. Mr and Mrs Reeves are to come with them.

You must, as you expect me to be minute, be content with bits and scraps, written by snatches of time. I pity you for your still-life, my dear Lady L, and think your request, that I will so write as to make you suppose yourself on the spot, a reasonable one.

Here is come the man of men!

WITH what respect (all his respect has love in it) did he attend Mrs Shirley to her seat! And then hastening to Lord and Lady Whe saluted them both, and acknowledged the honour done him by their presence; an honour, he said, that he could not have expected, nor therefore had the thought, the distance so great, of asking it.

He then paid his compliments, in the most affectionate manner, to his amiable friend Beauchamp; who, on his thanking him for his uninvited presence, said, he could not deny himself being present at a solemnity that was to complete the happiness of the best of men, and best of friends.

Sir Charles addressed himself to the young ladies who were most strangers to him; apologizing to them, as they were engaged with Mr Selby, Mr Deane, and Lord G, that he did not at first. He sat a few minutes with them: what he said, I heard not; but they smiled, blushed, and looked delighted upon each other. Everybody followed him in his motions, with their eye. So much presence of mind never met with so much modesty of behaviour, and so charming a vivacity.

The young ladies came only intendedly to breakfast; and that at Mr Selby's odd invitation. They had the good sense to apologize for their coming this day, as they were to make part of the cavalcade, as I may call it, to-morrow. But the odd soul had met the four at a neighbouring lady's, where he made a gossiping visit, and would make them come with him.