You will perhaps say, why not make Emily of our party?  I am almost ashamed to speak plain; but so weak are we, and so guided by the prejudices we fancy we despise, that I cannot bear my Emily, after refusing a coach and six, should live without an equipage suitable at least to her birth, and the manner in which she has always lived when in England.

I know this is folly, that it is a despicable pride; but it is a folly, a pride, I cannot conquer.

There are moments when I am above all this childish prejudice, but it returns upon me in spite of myself.

Will you come to us, my Lucy?  Tell my mother, I will build her a rustic palace, and settle a little principality on you both.

I make this a private excursion, because I don’t chuse any body should even guess at my views.  I shall set out in the evening, and make a circuit to cross the river above the town.

I shall not even take leave at Silleri, as I propose being back in four days, and I know your friend Bell will be inquisitive about my journey.

    Adieu! 
      Your affectionate
          Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 84.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Silleri, March 6.

Your brother is gone nobody knows whither, and without calling upon us before he set off; we are piqued, I assure you, my dear, and with some little reason.

Four o’clock.

Very strange news, Lucy; they say Colonel Rivers is gone to marry Madame Des Roches, a lady at whose house he was some time in autumn; if this is true, I forswear the whole sex:  his manner of stealing off is certainly very odd, and she is rich and agreable; but, if he does not love Emily, he has been excessively cruel in shewing an attention which has deceived her into a passion for him.  I cannot believe it possible:  not that he has ever told her he loved her; but a man of honor will not tell an untruth even with his eyes, and his have spoke a very unequivocal language.

I never saw any thing like her confusion, when she was told he was gone to visit Madame Des Roches; but, when it was hinted with what design, I was obliged to take her out of the room, or she would have discovered all the fondness of her soul.  I really thought she would have fainted as I led her out.

Eight o’clock.

I have sent away all the men, and drank tea in Emily’s apartment; she has scarce spoke to me; I am miserable for her; she has a paleness which alarms me, the tears steal every moment into her lovely eyes.  Can Rivers act so unworthy a part? her tenderness cannot have been unobserved by him; it was too visible to every body.

9th, Ten o’clock.

Not a line from your brother yet; only a confirmation of his being with Madame Des Roches, having been seen there by some Canadians who are come up this morning:  I am not quite pleased, though I do not believe the report; he might have told us surely where he was going.