I pity Emily beyond words; she says nothing, but there is a dumb eloquence in her countenance which is not to be described.

Twelve o’clock.

I have been an hour alone with the dear little girl, who has, from a hint I dropt on purpose, taken courage to speak to me on this very interesting subject; she says, “she shall be most unhappy if this report is true, though without the least right to complain of Colonel Rivers, who never even hinted a word of any affection for her more tender than friendship; that if her vanity, her self-love, or her tenderness, have deceived her, she ought only to blame herself.”  She added, “that she wished him to marry Madame Des Roches, if she could make him happy;” but when she said this, an involuntary tear seemed to contradict the generosity of her sentiments.

I beg your pardon, my dear, but my esteem for your brother is greatly lessened; I cannot help fearing there is something in the report, and that this is what Mrs. Melmoth meant when she mentioned his having an attachment.

I shall begin to hate the whole sex, Lucy, if I find your brother unworthy, and shall give Fitzgerald his dismission immediately.

I am afraid Mrs. Melmoth knows men better than we foolish girls do:  she said, he attached himself to Emily meerly from vanity, and I begin to believe she was right:  how cruel is this conduct!  The man who from vanity, or perhaps only to amuse an idle hour, can appear to be attached where he is not, and by that means seduce the heart of a deserving woman, or indeed of any woman, falls in my opinion very little short in baseness of him who practises a greater degree of seduction.

What right has he to make the most amiable of women wretched? a woman who would have deserved him had he been monarch of the universal world!  I might add, who has sacrificed ease and affluence to her tenderness for him?

You will excuse my warmth on such an occasion; however, as it may give you pain, I will say no more.

      Adieu! 
        Your faithful
          A. Fermor.

LETTER 85.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Kamaraskas, March 12.

I have met with something, my dear Lucy, which has given me infinite uneasiness; Madame Des Roches, from my extreme zeal to serve her in an affair wherein she has been hardly used, from my second visit, and a certain involuntary attention, and softness of manner I have to all women, has supposed me in love with her, and with a frankness I cannot but admire, and a delicacy not to be described, has let me know I am far from being indifferent to her.

I was at first extremely embarrassed; but when I had reflected a moment, I considered that the ladies, though another may be the object, always regard with a kind of complacency a man who loves, as one who acknowledges the power of the sex, whereas an indifferent is a kind of rebel to their empire; I considered also that the confession of a prior inclination saves the most delicate vanity from being wounded; and therefore determined to make her the confidante of my tenderness for Emily; leaving her an opening to suppose that, if my heart had been disengaged, it could not have escaped her attractions.