My Acadians, your new subjects, are waiting in the next room to speak with me.

All good angels guard my Emily.

      Adieu! your
          Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 146.

To Mrs. Temple, Pall Mall.

Silleri, May 24.

Emily has wrote to you, and appears more composed; she does not however tell me what she has resolved; she has only mentioned a design of spending a week at Quebec.  I suppose she will take no resolution till your brother comes down:  he cannot be here in less than ten days.

She has heard from him, and he has fixed on a settlement:  depend however on his return to England, even if it is not to stay.  I wish he could prevail on Mrs. Rivers to accompany him back.  The advantages of his design are too great to lose; the voyage is nothing; the climate healthy beyond all conception.

I fancy he will marry as soon as he comes down from Montreal, set off in the first ship for England, leave Emily with me, and return to us next year:  at least, this is the plan my heart has formed.

I wish Mrs. Rivers had born his absence better; her impatience to see him has broken in on all our schemes; Emily and I had in fancy formed a little Eden on Lake Champlain:  Fitzgerald had promised me to apply for lands near them; we should have been so happy in our little new world of friendship.

There is nothing certain in this vile state of existence:  I could philosophize extremely well this morning.

All our little plans of amusement too for this summer are now at an end; your brother was the soul of all our parties.  This is a trifle, but my mind to-day seeks for every subject of chagrin.

Let but my Emily be happy, and I will not complain, even if I lose her:  I have a thousand fears, a thousand uneasy reflections:  if you knew her merit, you would not wish to break the attachment.

My sweet Emily is going this morning to Quebec; I have promised to accompany her, and she now waits for me.

I cannot write:  I have a heaviness about my heart, which has never left me since I read your letter.  ’Tis the only disagreable one I ever received from my dear Lucy:  I am not sure I love you so well as before I saw this letter.  There is something unfeeling in the style of it, which I did not expect from you.

      Adieu! your faithful
          A. Fermor.

LETTER 147.

To Mrs. Temple, Pall Mall.

Silleri, May 25.

I am unhappy beyond all words; my sweet Emily is gone to England; the ship sailed this morning:  I am just returned from the beach, after conducting her on board.