LETTER LXIX
Why don't I subscribe Sister? asks my dearest Lady Davers.--I have not had the courage to do it of late. For my title to that honour arises from the dear, thrice dear Mr. B. And how long I may be permitted to call him mine, I cannot say. But since you command it, I will call your ladyship by that beloved name, let the rest happen as God shall see fit.
Mr. B. cannot be unpolite, in the main; but he is cold, and a little cross, and short in his speeches to me. I try to hide my grief from everybody, and most from him: for neither my parents, nor Miss Darnford know anything from me. Mrs. Jervis, from whom I seldom hide any thing, as she is on the spot with me, hears not my complainings, nor my uneasiness; for I would not lessen the dear man. He may yet see the error of the way he is in. God grant it, for his own sake as well as mine.--I am even sorry your ladyship is afflicted with the knowledge of the matter.
The unhappy lady (God forgive her!) is to be pitied: she loves him, and having strong passions, and being unused to be controlled, is lost to a sense of honour and justice.--From these wicked masquerades springs all the unhappiness; my Spaniard was too amiable, and met with a lady who was no Nun, but in habit. Every one was taken with him in that habit, so suited to the natural dignity of his person!--O these wicked masquerades!
I am all patience in appearance, all uneasiness in reality. I did not think I could, especially in this most affecting point, be such an hypocrite. Your ladyship knows not what it has cost me, to be able to assume that character! Yet my eyes are swelled with crying, and look red, although I am always breathing on my hand, and patting them with it, and my warm breath, to hide the distress that will, from my overcharged heart, appear in them.
Then he says, "What's the matter with the little fool! You are always in this way of late! What ails you, Pamela?"
"Only a little vapourish, Sir!--Don't be angry at me!--Billy, I thought, was not very well!"
"This boy will spoil your temper: at this rate, what should be your joy, will become your misfortune. Don't receive me in this manner, I charge you."
"In what manner. Sir? I always receive you with a grateful heart! If any thing troubles me, it is in your absence: but see, Sir" (then I try to smile, and seem pleased), "I am all sunshine, now you are come!--don't you see I am?"
"Yes, your sunshine of late is all through a cloud! I know not what's the matter with you. Your temper will alter, and then--"
"It shan't alter, Sir--it shan't--if I can help it." And then I kissed his hand; that dear hand, that, perhaps, was last about his more beloved Countess's neck--Distracting reflection!
But come, may-be I think the worst! To be sure I do! For my apprehensions were ever aforehand with events; and bad must be the case, if it be worse than I think it.
You command me to let you know what I have heard, and how I came to hear it. I told your ladyship in one of my former that two gentlemen brought up to the law, but above the practice of it, though I doubt, not above practices less honourable, had visited us on coming to town.
They have been often here since, Mr. Turner particularly: and sometimes by himself, when Mr. B. has happened to be out: and he it was, as I guessed, that gave me, at the wicked masquerade, the advice to look after my Musidorus.