Love and Friendship and Other Early Works Love and Freindship
by Jane Austen
TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE FEUILLIDE THIS NOVEL IS INSCRIBED BY HER
OBLIGED HUMBLE SERVANT
THE AUTHOR.
"Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love."
LETTER the FIRST
From ISABEL to LAURA
How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you would
give my Daughter a regular detail of the Misfortunes and
Adventures of your Life, have you said "No, my freind never will
I comply with your request till I may be no longer in Danger of
again experiencing such dreadful ones."
Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. If a
woman may ever be said to be in safety from the determined
Perseverance of disagreeable Lovers and the cruel Persecutions of
obstinate Fathers, surely it must be at such a time of Life.
Isabel
LETTER 2nd
LAURA to ISABEL
Altho' I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall never
again be exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as those I have
already experienced, yet to avoid the imputation of Obstinacy or
ill-nature, I will gratify the curiosity of your daughter; and
may the fortitude with which I have suffered the many afflictions
of my past Life, prove to her a useful lesson for the support of
those which may befall her in her own.
Laura
LETTER 3rd
LAURA to MARIANNE
As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled
to that knowledge of my unhappy story, which your Mother has so
often solicited me to give you.
My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my
Mother was the natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian
Opera-girl--I was born in Spain and received my Education at a
Convent in France.
When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my
Parents to my paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated
in one of the most romantic parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho' my
Charms are now considerably softened and somewhat impaired by the
Misfortunes I have undergone, I was once beautiful. But lovely
as I was the Graces of my Person were the least of my
Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my sex, I was
Mistress. When in the Convent, my progress had always exceeded my
instructions, my Acquirements had been wonderfull for my age, and
I had shortly surpassed my Masters.
In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was
the Rendez-vous of every good Quality and of every noble
sentiment.
A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my
Freinds, my Acquaintance and particularly to every affliction of
my own, was my only fault, if a fault it could be called. Alas!
how altered now! Tho' indeed my own Misfortunes do not make less
impression on me than they ever did, yet now I never feel for
those of an other. My accomplishments too, begin to fade--I can
neither sing so well nor Dance so gracefully as I once did--and I
have entirely forgot the MINUET DELA COUR.
Adeiu.
Laura.
LETTER 4th
Laura to MARIANNE
Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of your
Mother. She may probably have already told you that being left
by her Parents in indigent Circumstances she had retired into
Wales on eoconomical motives. There it was our freindship first
commenced. Isobel was then one and twenty. Tho' pleasing both
in her Person and Manners (between ourselves) she never possessed
the hundredth part of my Beauty or Accomplishments. Isabel had
seen the World. She had passed 2 Years at one of the first
Boarding-schools in London; had spent a fortnight in Bath and had
supped one night in Southampton.
"Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of the insipid
Vanities and idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England;
Beware of the unmeaning Luxuries of Bath and of the stinking fish
of Southampton."
"Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I shall never
be exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the
Dissipations of London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking
Fish of Southampton? I who am doomed to waste my Days of Youth
and Beauty in an humble Cottage in the Vale of Uske."
Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that
humble Cottage for the Deceitfull Pleasures of the World.
Adeiu
Laura.
LETTER 5th
LAURA to MARIANNE
One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother and myself, were
arranged in social converse round our Fireside, we were on a
sudden greatly astonished, by hearing a violent knocking on the
outward door of our rustic Cot.
My Father started--"What noise is that," (said he.) "It sounds
like a loud rapping at the door"--(replied my Mother.) "it does
indeed." (cried I.) "I am of your opinion; (said my Father) it
certainly does appear to proceed from some uncommon violence
exerted against our unoffending door." "Yes (exclaimed I) I
cannot help thinking it must be somebody who knocks for
admittance."
"That is another point (replied he;) We must not pretend to
determine on what motive the person may knock--tho' that someone
DOES rap at the door, I am partly convinced."
Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in his speech,
and somewhat alarmed my Mother and me.
"Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the servants
are out." "I think we had." (replied I.) "Certainly, (added my
Father) by all means." "Shall we go now?" (said my Mother,) "The
sooner the better." (answered he.) "Oh! let no time be lost"
(cried I.)
A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted our ears. "I
am certain there is somebody knocking at the Door." (said my
Mother.) "I think there must," (replied my Father) "I fancy the
servants are returned; (said I) I think I hear Mary going to the
Door." "I'm glad of it (cried my Father) for I long to know who
it is."
I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly entering the
Room, informed us that a young Gentleman and his Servant were at
the door, who had lossed their way, were very cold and begged
leave to warm themselves by our fire.
"Won't you admit them?" (said I.) "You have no objection, my
Dear?" (said my Father.) "None in the World." (replied my
Mother.)
Mary, without waiting for any further commands immediately left
the room and quickly returned introducing the most beauteous and
amiable Youth, I had ever beheld. The servant she kept to
herself.
My natural sensibility had already been greatly affected by the
sufferings of the unfortunate stranger and no sooner did I first
behold him, than I felt that on him the happiness or Misery of my
future Life must depend.
Adeiu
Laura.
LETTER 6th
LAURA to MARIANNE
The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lindsay--for
particular reasons however I shall conceal it under that of
Talbot. He told us that he was the son of an English Baronet,
that his Mother had been for many years no more and that he had a
Sister of the middle size. "My Father (he continued) is a mean
and mercenary wretch--it is only to such particular freinds as
this Dear Party that I would thus betray his failings. Your
Virtues my amiable Polydore (addressing himself to my father)
yours Dear Claudia and yours my Charming Laura call on me to
repose in you, my confidence." We bowed. "My Father seduced by
the false glare of Fortune and the Deluding Pomp of Title,
insisted on my giving my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never
exclaimed I. Lady Dorothea is lovely and Engaging; I prefer no
woman to her; but know Sir, that I scorn to marry her in
compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it be said that I
obliged my Father."
We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He continued.
"Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little expected to meet
with so spirited an opposition to his will. "Where, Edward in
the name of wonder (said he) did you pick up this unmeaning
gibberish? You have been studying Novels I suspect." I scorned
to answer: it would have been beneath my dignity. I mounted my
Horse and followed by my faithful William set forth for my
Aunts."
"My Father's house is situated in Bedfordshire, my Aunt's in
Middlesex, and tho' I flatter myself with being a tolerable
proficient in Geography, I know not how it happened, but I found
myself entering this beautifull Vale which I find is in South
Wales, when I had expected to have reached my Aunts."
"After having wandered some time on the Banks of the Uske without
knowing which way to go, I began to lament my cruel Destiny in
the bitterest and most pathetic Manner. It was now perfectly
dark, not a single star was there to direct my steps, and I know
not what might have befallen me had I not at length discerned
thro' the solemn Gloom that surrounded me a distant light, which
as I approached it, I discovered to be the chearfull Blaze of
your fire. Impelled by the combination of Misfortunes under
which I laboured, namely Fear, Cold and Hunger I hesitated not to
ask admittance which at length I have gained; and now my Adorable
Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when may I hope to receive
that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have undergone
during the course of my attachment to you, to which I have ever
aspired. Oh! when will you reward me with Yourself?"
"This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward." (replied I.). We were
immediately united by my Father, who tho' he had never taken
orders had been bred to the Church.
Adeiu
Laura
LETTER 7th
LAURA to MARIANNE
We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the Vale of
Uske. After taking an affecting Farewell of my Father, my Mother
and my Isabel, I accompanied Edward to his Aunt's in Middlesex.
Philippa received us both with every expression of affectionate
Love. My arrival was indeed a most agreable surprise to her as
she had not only been totally ignorant of my Marriage with her
Nephew, but had never even had the slightest idea of there being
such a person in the World.
Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her when we
arrived. I found her exactly what her Brother had described her
to be--of the middle size. She received me with equal surprise
though not with equal Cordiality, as Philippa. There was a
disagreable coldness and Forbidding Reserve in her reception of
me which was equally distressing and Unexpected. None of that
interesting Sensibility or amiable simpathy in her manners and
Address to me when we first met which should have distinguished
our introduction to each other. Her Language was neither warm,
nor affectionate, her expressions of regard were neither animated
nor cordial; her arms were not opened to receive me to her Heart,
tho' my own were extended to press her to mine.
A short Conversation between Augusta and her Brother, which I
accidentally overheard encreased my dislike to her, and convinced
me that her Heart was no more formed for the soft ties of Love
than for the endearing intercourse of Freindship.
"But do you think that my Father will ever be reconciled to this
imprudent connection?" (said Augusta.)
"Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had a better
opinion of me, than to imagine I would so abjectly degrade myself
as to consider my Father's Concurrence in any of my affairs,
either of Consequence or concern to me. Tell me Augusta with
sincerity; did you ever know me consult his inclinations or
follow his Advice in the least trifling Particular since the age
of fifteen?"
"Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in your own
praise. Since you were fifteen only! My Dear Brother since you
were five years old, I entirely acquit you of ever having
willingly contributed to the satisfaction of your Father. But
still I am not without apprehensions of your being shortly
obliged to degrade yourself in your own eyes by seeking a support
for your wife in the Generosity of Sir Edward."
"Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said Edward).
Support! What support will Laura want which she can receive from
him?"
"Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and Drink."
(answered she.)
"Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most nobly
contemptuous Manner) and dost thou then imagine that there is no
other support for an exalted mind (such as is my Laura's) than
the mean and indelicate employment of Eating and Drinking?"
"None that I know of, so efficacious." (returned Augusta).
"And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Love, Augusta?
(replied my Edward). Does it appear impossible to your vile and
corrupted Palate, to exist on Love? Can you not conceive the
Luxury of living in every distress that Poverty can inflict, with
the object of your tenderest affection?"
"You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with; perhaps
however you may in time be convinced that ..."
Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of her speech, by
the appearance of a very Handsome young Woman, who was ushured
into the Room at the Door of which I had been listening. On
hearing her announced by the Name of "Lady Dorothea," I instantly
quitted my Post and followed her into the Parlour, for I well
remembered that she was the Lady, proposed as a Wife for my
Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting Baronet.
Altho' Lady Dorothea's visit was nominally to Philippa and
Augusta, yet I have some reason to imagine that (acquainted with
the Marriage and arrival of Edward) to see me was a principal
motive to it.
I soon perceived that tho' Lovely and Elegant in her Person and
tho' Easy and Polite in her Address, she was of that inferior
order of Beings with regard to Delicate Feeling, tender
Sentiments, and refined Sensibility, of which Augusta was one.
She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course of her
Visit, confided to me any of her secret thoughts, nor requested
me to confide in her, any of Mine. You will easily imagine
therefore my Dear Marianne that I could not feel any ardent
affection or very sincere Attachment for Lady Dorothea.
Adeiu
Laura.
LETTER 8th
LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation
Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visitor as
unexpected a one as her Ladyship, was announced. It was Sir
Edward, who informed by Augusta of her Brother's marriage, came
doubtless to reproach him for having dared to unite himself to me
without his Knowledge. But Edward foreseeing his design,
approached him with heroic fortitude as soon as he entered the
Room, and addressed him in the following Manner.
"Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here--You come
with the base Design of reproaching me for having entered into an
indissoluble engagement with my Laura without your Consent. But
Sir, I glory in the Act--. It is my greatest boast that I have
incurred the displeasure of my Father!"
So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward, Philippa, and
Augusta were doubtless reflecting with admiration on his
undaunted Bravery, led me from the Parlour to his Father's
Carriage which yet remained at the Door and in which we were
instantly conveyed from the pursuit of Sir Edward.
The Postilions had at first received orders only to take the
London road; as soon as we had sufficiently reflected However, we
ordered them to Drive to M----. the seat of Edward's most
particular freind, which was but a few miles distant.
At M----. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending in our names
were immediately admitted to Sophia, the Wife of Edward's freind.
After having been deprived during the course of 3 weeks of a real
freind (for such I term your Mother) imagine my transports at
beholding one, most truly worthy of the Name. Sophia was rather
above the middle size; most elegantly formed. A soft languor
spread over her lovely features, but increased their Beauty--.
It was the Charectarestic of her Mind--. She was all sensibility
and Feeling. We flew into each others arms and after having
exchanged vows of mutual Freindship for the rest of our Lives,
instantly unfolded to each other the most inward secrets of our
Hearts--. We were interrupted in the delightfull Employment by
the entrance of Augustus, (Edward's freind) who was just returned
from a solitary ramble.
Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the meeting of
Edward and Augustus.
"My Life! my Soul!" (exclaimed the former) "My adorable angel!"
(replied the latter) as they flew into each other's arms. It was
too pathetic for the feelings of Sophia and myself--We fainted
alternately on a sofa.
Adeiu
Laura.
LETTER the 9th
From the same to the same
Towards the close of the day we received the following Letter
from Philippa.
"Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt departure; he has
taken back Augusta to Bedfordshire. Much as I wish to enjoy
again your charming society, I cannot determine to snatch you
from that, of such dear and deserving Freinds--When your Visit to
them is terminated, I trust you will return to the arms of your"
"Philippa."
We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note and after
thanking her for her kind invitation assured her that we would
certainly avail ourselves of it, whenever we might have no other
place to go to. Tho' certainly nothing could to any reasonable
Being, have appeared more satisfactory, than so gratefull a reply
to her invitation, yet I know not how it was, but she was
certainly capricious enough to be displeased with our behaviour
and in a few weeks after, either to revenge our Conduct, or
releive her own solitude, married a young and illiterate Fortune-
hunter. This imprudent step (tho' we were sensible that it would
probably deprive us of that fortune which Philippa had ever
taught us to expect) could not on our own accounts, excite from
our exalted minds a single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might prove
a source of endless misery to the deluded Bride, our trembling
Sensibility was greatly affected when we were first informed of
the Event.The affectionate Entreaties of Augustus and Sophia that
we would for ever consider their House as our Home, easily
prevailed on us to determine never more to leave them, In the
society of my Edward and this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest
moments of my Life; Our time was most delightfully spent, in
mutual Protestations of Freindship, and in vows of unalterable
Love, in which we were secure from being interrupted, by
intruding and disagreable Visitors, as Augustus and Sophia had on
their first Entrance in the Neighbourhood, taken due care to
inform the surrounding Families, that as their happiness centered
wholly in themselves, they wished for no other society. But
alas! my Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then enjoyed was too
perfect to be lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow at once
destroyed every sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be
from what I have already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia,
that there never were a happier Couple, I need not I imagine,
inform you that their union had been contrary to the inclinations
of their Cruel and Mercenery Parents; who had vainly endeavoured
with obstinate Perseverance to force them into a Marriage with
those whom they had ever abhorred; but with a Heroic Fortitude
worthy to be related and admired, they had both, constantly
refused to submit to such despotic Power.
After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the shackles
of Parental Authority, by a Clandestine Marriage, they were
determined never to forfeit the good opinion they had gained in
the World, in so doing, by accepting any proposals of
reconciliation that might be offered them by their Fathers--to
this farther tryal of their noble independance however they never
were exposed.
They had been married but a few months when our visit to them
commenced during which time they had been amply supported by a
considerable sum of money which Augustus had gracefully purloined
from his unworthy father's Escritoire, a few days before his
union with Sophia.
By our arrival their Expenses were considerably encreased tho'
their means for supplying them were then nearly exhausted. But
they, Exalted Creatures! scorned to reflect a moment on their
pecuniary Distresses and would have blushed at the idea of paying
their Debts.--Alas! what was their Reward for such disinterested
Behaviour! The beautifull Augustus was arrested and we were all
undone. Such perfidious Treachery in the merciless perpetrators
of the Deed will shock your gentle nature Dearest Marianne as
much as it then affected the Delicate sensibility of Edward,
Sophia, your Laura, and of Augustus himself. To compleat such
unparalelled Barbarity we were informed that an Execution in the
House would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do but what
we did! We sighed and fainted on the sofa.
Adeiu
Laura.
LETTER 10th
LAURA in continuation
When we were somewhat recovered from the overpowering Effusions
of our grief, Edward desired that we would consider what was the
most prudent step to be taken in our unhappy situation while he
repaired to his imprisoned freind to lament over his misfortunes.
We promised that we would, and he set forwards on his journey to
Town. During his absence we faithfully complied with his Desire
and after the most mature Deliberation, at length agreed that the
best thing we could do was to leave the House; of which we every
moment expected the officers of Justice to take possession. We
waited therefore with the greatest impatience, for the return of
Edward in order to impart to him the result of our Deliberations.
But no Edward appeared. In vain did we count the tedious moments
of his absence--in vain did we weep--in vain even did we sigh--no
Edward returned--. This was too cruel, too unexpected a Blow to
our Gentle Sensibility--we could not support it--we could only
faint. At length collecting all the Resolution I was Mistress
of, I arose and after packing up some necessary apparel for
Sophia and myself, I dragged her to a Carriage I had ordered and
we instantly set out for London. As the Habitation of Augustus
was within twelve miles of Town, it was not long e'er we arrived
there, and no sooner had we entered Holboun than letting down one
of the Front Glasses I enquired of every decent-looking Person
that we passed "If they had seen my Edward?"
But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer my repeated
Enquiries, I gained little, or indeed, no information concerning
him. "Where am I to drive?" said the Postilion. "To Newgate
Gentle Youth (replied I), to see Augustus." "Oh! no, no,
(exclaimed Sophia) I cannot go to Newgate; I shall not be able to
support the sight of my Augustus in so cruel a confinement--my
feelings are sufficiently shocked by the RECITAL, of his
Distress, but to behold it will overpower my Sensibility." As I
perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her Sentiments the
Postilion was instantly directed to return into the Country. You
may perhaps have been somewhat surprised my Dearest Marianne,
that in the Distress I then endured, destitute of any support,
and unprovided with any Habitation, I should never once have
remembered my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in the
Vale of Uske. To account for this seeming forgetfullness I must
inform you of a trifling circumstance concerning them which I
have as yet never mentioned. The death of my Parents a few weeks
after my Departure, is the circumstance I allude to. By their
decease I became the lawfull Inheritress of their House and
Fortune. But alas! the House had never been their own and their
Fortune had only been an Annuity on their own Lives. Such is the
Depravity of the World! To your Mother I should have returned
with Pleasure, should have been happy to have introduced to her,
my charming Sophia and should with Chearfullness have passed the
remainder of my Life in their dear Society in the Vale of Uske,
had not one obstacle to the execution of so agreable a scheme,
intervened; which was the Marriage and Removal of your Mother to
a distant part of Ireland.
Adeiu
Laura.
LETTER 11th
LAURA in continuation
"I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left
London) who I am certain would not hesitate in receiving me."
"Shall I order the Boy to drive there?" said I--but instantly
recollecting myself, exclaimed, "Alas I fear it will be too long
a Journey for the Horses." Unwilling however to act only from my
own inadequate Knowledge of the Strength and Abilities of Horses,
I consulted the Postilion, who was entirely of my Opinion
concerning the Affair. We therefore determined to change Horses
at the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of the Journey
--. When we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which
was but a few miles from the House of Sophia's Relation,
unwilling to intrude our Society on him unexpected and unthought
of, we wrote a very elegant and well penned Note to him
containing an account of our Destitute and melancholy Situation,
and of our intention to spend some months with him in Scotland.
As soon as we had dispatched this Letter, we immediately prepared
to follow it in person and were stepping into the Carriage for
that Purpose when our attention was attracted by the Entrance of
a coroneted Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman
considerably advanced in years descended from it. At his first
Appearance my Sensibility was wonderfully affected and e'er I had
gazed at him a 2d time, an instinctive sympathy whispered to my
Heart, that he was my Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be
mistaken in my conjecture I instantly sprang from the Carriage I
had just entered, and following the Venerable Stranger into the
Room he had been shewn to, I threw myself on my knees before him
and besought him to acknowledge me as his Grand Child. He
started, and having attentively examined my features, raised me
from the Ground and throwing his Grand-fatherly arms around my
Neck, exclaimed, "Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance of my
Laurina and Laurina's Daughter, sweet image of my Claudia and my
Claudia's Mother, I do acknowledge thee as the Daughter of the
one and the Grandaughter of the other." While he was thus
tenderly embracing me, Sophia astonished at my precipitate
Departure, entered the Room in search of me. No sooner had she
caught the eye of the venerable Peer, than he exclaimed with
every mark of Astonishment --"Another Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I
see you are the Daughter of my Laurina's eldest Girl; your
resemblance to the beauteous Matilda sufficiently proclaims it.
"Oh!" replied Sophia, "when I first beheld you the instinct of
Nature whispered me that we were in some degree related--But
whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could not pretend to
determine." He folded her in his arms, and whilst they were
tenderly embracing, the Door of the Apartment opened and a most
beautifull young Man appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair
started and retreating back a few paces, with uplifted Hands,
said, "Another Grand-child! What an unexpected Happiness is
this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes, as many of my
Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son of my
Laurina's 3d girl the amiable Bertha; there wants now but the
presence of Gustavus to compleat the Union of my Laurina's Grand-
Children."
"And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered
the room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son
of Agatha your Laurina's 4th and youngest Daughter," "I see you
are indeed; replied Lord St. Clair--But tell me (continued he
looking fearfully towards the Door) tell me, have I any other
Grand-children in the House." "None my Lord." "Then I will
provide for you all without farther delay--Here are 4 Banknotes
of 50L each--Take them and remember I have done the Duty of a
Grandfather." He instantly left the Room and immediately
afterwards the House.
Adeiu,
Laura.
LETTER the 12th
LAURA in continuation
You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden
departure of Lord St Clair. "Ignoble Grand-sire!" exclaimed
Sophia. "Unworthy Grandfather!" said I, and instantly fainted in
each other's arms. How long we remained in this situation I know
not; but when we recovered we found ourselves alone, without
either Gustavus, Philander, or the Banknotes. As we were
deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the Apartment opened and
"Macdonald" was announced. He was Sophia's cousin. The haste
with which he came to our releif so soon after the receipt of our
Note, spoke so greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to
pronounce him at first sight, a tender and simpathetic Freind.
Alas! he little deserved the name--for though he told us that he
was much concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his own account it
appeared that the perusal of them, had neither drawn from him a
single sigh, nor induced him to bestow one curse on our
vindictive stars--. He told Sophia that his Daughter depended on
her returning with him to Macdonald-Hall, and that as his
Cousin's freind he should be happy to see me there also. To
Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were received with great
kindness by Janetta the Daughter of Macdonald, and the Mistress
of the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen; naturally well
disposed, endowed with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic
Disposition, she might, had these amiable qualities been properly
encouraged, have been an ornament to human Nature; but
unfortunately her Father possessed not a soul sufficiently
exalted to admire so promising a Disposition, and had endeavoured
by every means on his power to prevent it encreasing with her
Years. He had actually so far extinguished the natural noble
Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail on her to accept an offer
from a young Man of his Recommendation. They were to be married
in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when we arrived.
WE soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man as one
might have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he
was Sensible, well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to
Judge of such trifles, but as we were convinced he had no soul,
that he had never read the sorrows of Werter, and that his Hair
bore not the least resemblance to auburn, we were certain that
Janetta could feel no affection for him, or at least that she
ought to feel none. The very circumstance of his being her
father's choice too, was so much in his disfavour, that had he
been deserving her, in every other respect yet THAT of itself
ought to have been a sufficient reason in the Eyes of Janetta for
rejecting him. These considerations we were determined to
represent to her in their proper light and doubted not of meeting
with the desired success from one naturally so well disposed;
whose errors in the affair had only arisen from a want of proper
confidence in her own opinion, and a suitable contempt of her
father's. We found her indeed all that our warmest wishes could
have hoped for; we had no difficulty to convince her that it was
impossible she could love Graham, or that it was her Duty to
disobey her Father; the only thing at which she rather seemed to
hesitate was our assertion that she must be attached to some
other Person. For some time, she persevered in declaring that
she knew no other young man for whom she had the the smallest
Affection; but upon explaining the impossibility of such a thing
she said that she beleived she DID LIKE Captain M'Kenrie better
than any one she knew besides. This confession satisfied us and
after having enumerated the good Qualities of M'Kenrie and
assured her that she was violently in love with him, we desired
to know whether he had ever in any wise declared his affection to
her.
"So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine
that he has ever felt any for me." said Janetta. "That he
certainly adores you (replied Sophia) there can be no doubt--.
The Attachment must be reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with
admiration--tenderly press your hand--drop an involantary tear--
and leave the room abruptly?" "Never (replied she) that I
remember--he has always left the room indeed when his visit has
been ended, but has never gone away particularly abruptly or
without making a bow." Indeed my Love (said I) you must be
mistaken--for it is absolutely impossible that he should ever
have left you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation.
Consider but for a moment Janetta, and you must be convinced how
absurd it is to suppose that he could ever make a Bow, or behave
like any other Person." Having settled this Point to our
satisfaction, the next we took into consideration was, to
determine in what manner we should inform M'Kenrie of the
favourable Opinion Janetta entertained of him. . . . We at
length agreed to acquaint him with it by an anonymous Letter
which Sophia drew up in the following manner.
"Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable
Possessor of HER Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do
you thus delay a confession of your attachment to the amiable
Object of it? Oh! consider that a few weeks will at once put an
end to every flattering Hope that you may now entertain, by
uniting the unfortunate Victim of her father's Cruelty to the
execrable and detested Graham."
"Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected
Misery of her and of yourself by delaying to communicate that
scheme which had doubtless long possessed your imagination? A
secret Union will at once secure the felicity of both."
The amiable M'Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us
had been the only reason of his having so long concealed the
violence of his affection for Janetta, on receiving this Billet
flew on the wings of Love to Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully
pleaded his Attachment to her who inspired it, that after a few
more private interveiws, Sophia and I experienced the
satisfaction of seeing them depart for Gretna-Green, which they
chose for the celebration of their Nuptials, in preference to any
other place although it was at a considerable distance from
Macdonald-Hall.
Adeiu
Laura.
LETTER the 13th
LAURA in continuation
They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either
Macdonald or Graham had entertained any suspicion of the affair.
And they might not even then have suspected it, but for the
following little Accident. Sophia happening one day to open a
private Drawer in Macdonald's Library with one of her own keys,
discovered that it was the Place where he kept his Papers of
consequence and amongst them some bank notes of considerable
amount. This discovery she imparted to me; and having agreed
together that it would be a proper treatment of so vile a Wretch
as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly gained,
it was determined that the next time we should either of us
happen to go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank
notes from the drawer. This well meant Plan we had often
successfully put in Execution; but alas! on the very day of
Janetta's Escape, as Sophia was majestically removing the 5th
Bank-note from the Drawer to her own purse, she was suddenly most
impertinently interrupted in her employment by the entrance of
Macdonald himself, in a most abrupt and precipitate Manner.
Sophia (who though naturally all winning sweetness could when
occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex)
instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry
frown on the undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of
voice "Wherefore her retirement was thus insolently broken in
on?" The unblushing Macdonald, without even endeavouring to
exculpate himself from the crime he was charged with, meanly
endeavoured to reproach Sophia with ignobly defrauding him of his
money . . . The dignity of Sophia was wounded; "Wretch (exclaimed
she, hastily replacing the Bank-note in the Drawer) how darest
thou to accuse me of an Act, of which the bare idea makes me
blush?" The base wretch was still unconvinced and continued to
upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such opprobious Language,
that at length he so greatly provoked the gentle sweetness of her
Nature, as to induce her to revenge herself on him by informing
him of Janetta's Elopement, and of the active Part we had both
taken in the affair. At this period of their Quarrel I entered
the Library and was as you may imagine equally offended as Sophia
at the ill-grounded accusations of the malevolent and
contemptible Macdonald. "Base Miscreant! (cried I) how canst
thou thus undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless reputation
of such bright Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect MY
innocence as soon?" "Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I DO suspect
it, and therefore must desire that you will both leave this House
in less than half an hour."
"We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long
detested thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter
could have induced us to remain so long beneath thy roof."
"Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully
exerted by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled Fortune-
hunter." (replied he)
"Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us
some consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to
Janetta, we have amply discharged every obligation that we have
received from her father."
"It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted
minds." (said he.)
As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left
Macdonald Hall, and after having walked about a mile and a half
we sate down by the side of a clear limpid stream to refresh our
exhausted limbs. The place was suited to meditation. A grove of
full-grown Elms sheltered us from the East--. A Bed of full-
grown Nettles from the West--. Before us ran the murmuring brook
and behind us ran the turn-pike road. We were in a mood for
contemplation and in a Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot.
A mutual silence which had for some time reigned between us, was
at length broke by my exclaiming--"What a lovely scene! Alas why
are not Edward and Augustus here to enjoy its Beauties with us?"
"Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity's sake forbear
recalling to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my
imprisoned Husband. Alas, what would I not give to learn the
fate of my Augustus! to know if he is still in Newgate, or if he
is yet hung. But never shall I be able so far to conquer my
tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do not I
beseech you ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name--.
It affects me too deeply --. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned
it wounds my feelings."
"Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended you--"
replied I--and then changing the conversation, desired her to
admire the noble Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the
Eastern Zephyr. "Alas! my Laura (returned she) avoid so
melancholy a subject, I intreat you. Do not again wound my
Sensibility by observations on those elms. They remind me of
Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic--he possessed that
noble grandeur which you admire in them."
I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress
her by fixing on any other subject of conversation which might
again remind her of Augustus.
"Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause)
"I cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own
reflections; they ever recur to Augustus."
"What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure
varied by those delicate streaks of white!"
"Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a
momentary glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling
my Attention to an object which so cruelly reminds me of my
Augustus's blue sattin waistcoat striped in white! In pity to
your unhappy freind avoid a subject so distressing." What could I
do? The feelings of Sophia were at that time so exquisite, and
the tenderness she felt for Augustus so poignant that I had not
power to start any other topic, justly fearing that it might in
some unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibility by
directing her thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be silent would be
cruel; she had intreated me to talk.
From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident
truly apropos; it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman's
Phaeton, on the road which ran murmuring behind us. It was a
most fortunate accident as it diverted the attention of Sophia
from the melancholy reflections which she had been before
indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and ran to the rescue
of those who but a few moments before had been in so elevated a
situation as a fashionably high Phaeton, but who were now laid
low and sprawling in the Dust. "What an ample subject for
reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, would not
that Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking
Mind!" said I to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of
Action.
She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged
by the horrid spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly
attired but weltering in their blood was what first struck our
Eyes--we approached--they were Edward and Augustus--. Yes dearest
Marianne they were our Husbands. Sophia shreiked and fainted on
the ground--I screamed and instantly ran mad--. We remained thus
mutually deprived of our senses, some minutes, and on regaining
them were deprived of them again. For an Hour and a Quarter did
we continue in this unfortunate situation--Sophia fainting every
moment and I running mad as often. At length a groan from the
hapless Edward (who alone retained any share of life) restored us
to ourselves. Had we indeed before imagined that either of them
lived, we should have been more sparing of our Greif--but as we
had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no more, we
knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about.
No sooner did we therefore hear my Edward's groan than postponing
our lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear
Youth and kneeling on each side of him implored him not to die--.
"Laura (said He fixing his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have
been overturned."
I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible.
"Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you
die, what has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which
Augustus was arrested and we were separated--"
"I will" (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, Expired
--. Sophia immediately sank again into a swoon--. MY greif was
more audible. My Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare,
my face became as pale as Death, and my senses were considerably
impaired--.
"Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic,
incoherent manner)--Give me a violin--. I'll play to him and
sooth him in his melancholy Hours--Beware ye gentle Nymphs of
Cupid's Thunderbolts, avoid the piercing shafts of Jupiter--Look
at that grove of Firs--I see a Leg of Mutton--They told me Edward
was not Dead; but they deceived me--they took him for a cucumber
--" Thus I continued wildly exclaiming on my Edward's Death--.
For two Hours did I rave thus madly and should not then have left
off, as I was not in the least fatigued, had not Sophia who was
just recovered from her swoon, intreated me to consider that
Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. "And
whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?" "To
that white Cottage." (replied she pointing to a neat Building
which rose up amidst the grove of Elms and which I had not before
observed--) I agreed and we instantly walked to it--we knocked at
the door--it was opened by an old woman; on being requested to
afford us a Night's Lodging, she informed us that her House was
but small, that she had only two Bedrooms, but that However we
should be wellcome to one of them. We were satisfied and
followed the good woman into the House where we were greatly
cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire--. She was a widow
and had only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen--One of
the best of ages; but alas! she was very plain and her name was
Bridget. . . . . Nothing therfore could be expected from her--she
could not be supposed to possess either exalted Ideas, Delicate
Feelings or refined Sensibilities--. She was nothing more than a
mere good-tempered, civil and obliging young woman; as such we
could scarcely dislike here--she was only an Object of Contempt
--.
Adeiu
Laura.
LETTER the 14th
LAURA in continuation
Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you
are Mistress of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for
alas! in the perusal of the following Pages your sensibility
will be most severely tried. Ah! what were the misfortunes I
had before experienced and which I have already related to you,
to the one I am now going to inform you of. The Death of my
Father and my Mother and my Husband though almost more than my
gentle Nature could support, were trifles in comparison to the
misfortune I am now proceeding to relate. The morning after our
arrival at the Cottage, Sophia complained of a violent pain in
her delicate limbs, accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake She
attributed it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in the
open air as the Dew was falling the Evening before. This I
feared was but too probably the case; since how could it be
otherwise accounted for that I should have escaped the same
indisposition, but by supposing that the bodily Exertions I had
undergone in my repeated fits of frenzy had so effectually
circulated and warmed my Blood as to make me proof against the
chilling Damps of Night, whereas, Sophia lying totally inactive
on the ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I
was most seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling as it
may appear to you, a certain instinctive sensibility whispered
me, would in the End be fatal to her.
Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew gradually
worse--and I daily became more alarmed for her. At length she
was obliged to confine herself solely to the Bed allotted us by
our worthy Landlady--. Her disorder turned to a galloping
Consumption and in a few days carried her off. Amidst all my
Lamentations for her (and violent you may suppose they were) I
yet received some consolation in the reflection of my having paid
every attention to her, that could be offered, in her illness. I
had wept over her every Day--had bathed her sweet face with my
tears and had pressed her fair Hands continually in mine--. "My
beloved Laura (said she to me a few Hours before she died) take
warning from my unhappy End and avoid the imprudent conduct which
had occasioned it. . . Beware of fainting-fits. . . Though at the
time they may be refreshing and agreable yet beleive me they will
in the end, if too often repeated and at improper seasons, prove
destructive to your Constitution. . . My fate will teach you
this. . I die a Martyr to my greif for the loss of Augustus. .
One fatal swoon has cost me my Life. . Beware of swoons Dear
Laura. . . . A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is
an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I dare say
conducive to Health in its consequences--Run mad as often as you
chuse; but do not faint--"
These were the last words she ever addressed to me. . It was her
dieing Advice to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most
faithfully adhered to it.
After having attended my lamented freind to her Early Grave, I
immediately (tho' late at night) left the detested Village in
which she died, and near which had expired my Husband and
Augustus. I had not walked many yards from it before I was
overtaken by a stage-coach, in which I instantly took a place,
determined to proceed in it to Edinburgh, where I hoped to find
some kind some pitying Freind who would receive and comfort me in
my afflictions.
It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could not
distinguish the Number of my Fellow-travellers; I could only
perceive that they were many. Regardless however of anything
concerning them, I gave myself up to my own sad Reflections. A
general silence prevailed--A silence, which was by nothing
interrupted but by the loud and repeated snores of one of the
Party.
"What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought I to
myself) What a total want of delicate refinement must he have,
who can thus shock our senses by such a brutal noise! He must I
am certain be capable of every bad action! There is no crime too
black for such a Character!" Thus reasoned I within myself, and
doubtless such were the reflections of my fellow travellers.
At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the unprincipled
Scoundrel who had so violently disturbed my feelings. It was Sir
Edward the father of my Deceased Husband. By his side sate
Augusta, and on the same seat with me were your Mother and Lady
Dorothea. Imagine my surprise at finding myself thus seated
amongst my old Acquaintance. Great as was my astonishment, it
was yet increased, when on looking out of Windows, I beheld the
Husband of Philippa, with Philippa by his side, on the Coachbox
and when on looking behind I beheld, Philander and Gustavus in
the Basket. "Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it possible that I
should so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Relations and
Connections?" These words roused the rest of the Party, and
every eye was directed to the corner in which I sat. "Oh! my
Isabel (continued I throwing myself across Lady Dorothea into her
arms) receive once more to your Bosom the unfortunate Laura.
Alas! when we last parted in the Vale of Usk, I was happy in
being united to the best of Edwards; I had then a Father and a
Mother, and had never known misfortunes--But now deprived of
every freind but you--"
"What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead then? Tell us I
intreat you what is become of him?" "Yes, cold and insensible
Nymph, (replied I) that luckless swain your Brother, is no more,
and you may now glory in being the Heiress of Sir Edward's
fortune."
Although I had always despised her from the Day I had overheard
her conversation with my Edward, yet in civility I complied with
hers and Sir Edward's intreaties that I would inform them of the
whole melancholy affair. They were greatly shocked--even the
obdurate Heart of Sir Edward and the insensible one of Augusta,
were touched with sorrow, by the unhappy tale. At the request of
your Mother I related to them every other misfortune which had
befallen me since we parted. Of the imprisonment of Augustus and
the absence of Edward--of our arrival in Scotland--of our
unexpected Meeting with our Grand-father and our cousins--of our
visit to Macdonald-Hall--of the singular service we there
performed towards Janetta--of her Fathers ingratitude for it . .
of his inhuman Behaviour, unaccountable suspicions, and barbarous
treatment of us, in obliging us to leave the House . . of our
lamentations on the loss of Edward and Augustus and finally of
the melancholy Death of my beloved Companion.
Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your Mother's
countenance, during the whole of my narration, but I am sorry to
say, that to the eternal reproach of her sensibility, the latter
infinitely predominated. Nay, faultless as my conduct had
certainly been during the whole course of my late misfortunes and
adventures, she pretended to find fault with my behaviour in many
of the situations in which I had been placed. As I was sensible
myself, that I had always behaved in a manner which reflected
Honour on my Feelings and Refinement, I paid little attention to
what she said, and desired her to satisfy my Curiosity by
informing me how she came there, instead of wounding my spotless
reputation with unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had
complyed with my wishes in this particular and had given me an
accurate detail of every thing that had befallen her since our
separation (the particulars of which if you are not already
acquainted with, your Mother will give you) I applied to Augusta
for the same information respecting herself, Sir Edward and Lady
Dorothea.
She told me that having a considerable taste for the Beauties
of Nature, her curiosity to behold the delightful scenes it
exhibited in that part of the World had been so much raised by
Gilpin's Tour to the Highlands, that she had prevailed on her
Father to undertake a Tour to Scotland and had persuaded Lady
Dorothea to accompany them. That they had arrived at Edinburgh a
few Days before and from thence had made daily Excursions into the
Country around in the Stage Coach they were then in, from one of
which Excursions they were at that time returning. My next
enquiries were concerning Philippa and her Husband, the latter of
whom I learned having spent all her fortune, had recourse for
subsistence to the talent in which, he had always most excelled,
namely, Driving, and that having sold every thing which belonged
to them except their Coach, had converted it into a Stage and in
order to be removed from any of his former Acquaintance, had
driven it to Edinburgh from whence he went to Sterling every other
Day. That Philippa still retaining her affection for her
ungratefull Husband, had followed him to Scotland and generally
accompanied him in his little Excursions to Sterling. "It has only
been to throw a little money into their Pockets (continued
Augusta) that my Father has always travelled in their Coach to
veiw the beauties of the Country since our arrival in Scotland
--for it would certainly have been much more agreable to us, to
visit the Highlands in a Postchaise than merely to travel from
Edinburgh to Sterling and from Sterling to Edinburgh every other
Day in a crowded and uncomfortable Stage." I perfectly agreed with
her in her sentiments on the affair, and secretly blamed Sir
Edward for thus sacrificing his Daughter's Pleasure for the sake
of a ridiculous old woman whose folly in marrying so young a man
ought to be punished. His Behaviour however was entirely of a
peice with his general Character; for what could be expected from
a man who possessed not the smallest atom of Sensibility, who
scarcely knew the meaning of simpathy, and who actually snored--.
Adeiu
Laura.
LETTER the 15th
LAURA in continuation.
When we arrived at the town where we were to Breakfast, I was
determined to speak with Philander and Gustavus, and to that
purpose as soon as I left the Carriage, I went to the Basket and
tenderly enquired after their Health, expressing my fears of the
uneasiness of their situation. At first they seemed rather
confused at my appearance dreading no doubt that I might call them
to account for the money which our Grandfather had left me and
which they had unjustly deprived me of, but finding that I
mentioned nothing of the Matter, they desired me to step into the
Basket as we might there converse with greater ease. Accordingly I
entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring green tea
and buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined and
sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them
of every thing which had befallen me during the course of my life,
and at my request they related to me every incident of theirs.
"We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest
Daughters which Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera
girl. Our mothers could neither of them exactly ascertain who were
our Father, though it is generally beleived that Philander, is the
son of one Philip Jones a Bricklayer and that my Father was one
Gregory Staves a Staymaker of Edinburgh. This is however of little
consequence for as our Mothers were certainly never married to
either of them it reflects no Dishonour on our Blood, which is of
a most ancient and unpolluted kind. Bertha (the Mother of
Philander) and Agatha (my own Mother) always lived together. They
were neither of them very rich; their united fortunes had
originally amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had
always lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen it was
diminished to nine Hundred. This nine Hundred they always kept in
a Drawer in one of the Tables which stood in our common sitting
Parlour, for the convenience of having it always at Hand. Whether
it was from this circumstance, of its being easily taken, or from
a wish of being independant, or from an excess of sensibility (for
which we were always remarkable) I cannot now determine, but
certain it is that when we had reached our 15th year, we took the
nine Hundred Pounds and ran away. Having obtained this prize we
were determined to manage it with eoconomy and not to spend it
either with folly or Extravagance. To this purpose we therefore
divided it into nine parcels, one of which we devoted to Victuals,
the 2d to Drink, the 3d to Housekeeping, the 4th to Carriages, the
5th to Horses, the 6th to Servants, the 7th to Amusements, the 8th
to Cloathes and the 9th to Silver Buckles. Having thus arranged
our Expences for two months (for we expected to make the nine
Hundred Pounds last as long) we hastened to London and had the
good luck to spend it in 7 weeks and a Day which was 6 Days sooner
than we had intended. As soon as we had thus happily disencumbered
ourselves from the weight of so much money, we began to think of
returning to our Mothers, but accidentally hearing that they were
both starved to Death, we gave over the design and determined to
engage ourselves to some strolling Company of Players, as we had
always a turn for the Stage. Accordingly we offered our services
to one and were accepted; our Company was indeed rather small, as
it consisted only of the Manager his wife and ourselves, but there
were fewer to pay and the only inconvenience attending it was the
Scarcity of Plays which for want of People to fill the Characters,
we could perform. We did not mind trifles however--. One of our
most admired Performances was MACBETH, in which we were truly
great. The Manager always played BANQUO himself, his Wife my LADY
MACBETH. I did the THREE WITCHES and Philander acted ALL THE REST.
To say the truth this tragedy was not only the Best, but the only
Play that we ever performed; and after having acted it all over
England, and Wales, we came to Scotland to exhibit it over the
remainder of Great Britain. We happened to be quartered in that
very Town, where you came and met your Grandfather--. We were in
the Inn-yard when his Carriage entered and perceiving by the arms
to whom it belonged, and knowing that Lord St Clair was our
Grandfather, we agreed to endeavour to get something from him by
discovering the Relationship--. You know how well it succeeded--.
Having obtained the two Hundred Pounds, we instantly left the
Town, leaving our Manager and his Wife to act MACBETH by
themselves, and took the road to Sterling, where we spent our
little fortune with great ECLAT. We are now returning to Edinburgh
in order to get some preferment in the Acting way; and such my
Dear Cousin is our History."
I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narration, and
after expressing my wishes for their Welfare and Happiness, left
them in their little Habitation and returned to my other Freinds
who impatiently expected me.
My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest Marianne;
at least for the present.
When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me that as the
Widow of his son, he desired I would accept from his Hands of four
Hundred a year. I graciously promised that I would, but could not
help observing that the unsimpathetic Baronet offered it more on
account of my being the Widow of Edward than in being the refined
and amiable Laura.
I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the Highlands
of Scotland where I have ever since continued, and where I can
uninterrupted by unmeaning Visits, indulge in a melancholy
solitude, my unceasing Lamentations for the Death of my Father, my
Mother, my Husband and my Freind.
Augusta has been for several years united to Graham the Man of
all others most suited to her; she became acquainted with him
during her stay in Scotland.
Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and Estate,
at the same time married Lady Dorothea--. His wishes have been
answered.
Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their reputation by
their Performances in the Theatrical Line at Edinburgh, removed to
Covent Garden, where they still exhibit under the assumed names of
LUVIS and QUICK.
Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Husband however
still continues to drive the Stage-Coach from Edinburgh to
Sterling:--
Adeiu my Dearest Marianne.
Laura.