Chapter 43

Miss DELVES to Mrs. DELVES.

_Barford Abbey_.

Are you well, Madam? Is my dear father well? Tell me you are, and never was so happy a creature as your daughter. I tremble with pleasure,--with joy,--with delight:--but I _must_--my duty, my affection, every thing says I _must_ sit down to write.--You did not see how we were marshall'd at setting out:--I wish you could have got up early enough:--never was there such joyous party!

All in Lady Mary's dining-room by seven;--the fine equipages at the door;--servants attending in rich new liveries, to the number of twenty;--Lord Darcey and his heavenly bride that is to be,--smiling on each other,--smiling on all around;--Lady Mary Sutton--yes, _she_ is heavenly _too_;--I believe I was the only earthly creature amongst them;--Lord and Lady Hampstead,--the angelic Ladies Elizabeth and Sophia,--Mr. Molesworth,--the generous, friendly, open-hearted Mr. Molesworth,--Lord Hallum.--But why mention him last?--Because, Bessy, I suppose he was _last_ in your thoughts.--Dear Madam, how can you think so?

In Lady Mary's coach went her Ladyship, Lord Darcey, Mrs. and Miss Powis:--in Lord Hampstead's, his Lordship, Lady Hampstead, Lady Elizabeth, and Mr. Molesworth:--in Lord Darcey's, Lady Sophia, Mr. Powis, Lord Hallum, and your little _good-for-nothing_:--in Mr. Powis's, the women-servants.--We lay fifty miles short of the Abbey, and the next evening reach'd it at seven.

We reach'd Barford Abbey, I say--but what shall I say _now?_--I cannot do justice to what I have seen of duty,--of affection,--of joy,--of hospitality.--Do, dear Madam, persuade my father to purchase a house in _this_ neighbourhood.

Servants were posted at the distance of six miles to carry intelligence when we should approach.--I suppose in their way back it was proclaim'd in the village:--men, women, and children, lined the road a mile from the Abbey, throwing up their hats with loud huzzaing,--bells ringing in every adjacent parish;--bonfires on every rising ground;--in short, we were usher'd in like conquerors.--The coachmen whipp'd up their horses full speed through the park;--thump, thump, went my heart, when by a number of lights I discover'd we were just at the house.

What sensations did I feel when the carriages stopp'd!--At the entrance stood Sir James and Lady Powis,--the Chaplain,--Mr. Morgan,--Captain Risby,--you know their characters, Madam;--every servant in the house with a light:--but who could have stay'd within at this juncture?

The first coach that drove up was Lady Mary's. Out sprang Lord Darcey, Miss Powis in his hand; both in a moment lock'd in parental embraces.--Good heaven, what extasy!--I thought Mr. Watson and Mr. Morgan would have fought a duel which should first have folded Miss Powis in his arms, whilst Sir James and Lady Powis quitted her to welcome Lady Mary.--We were all receiv'd tenderly affectionate:--a reception none can have an idea of, but those who have been at Barford Abbey.

In my way to the house, I suppose I had a hundred kisses:--_God knows from whom_.--What can I say of Lord Hampstead's family?--what of Mr. Molesworth?--The general notice taken of him is sufficient.--Absolutely that charming man will be spoil'd.--Pity to set him up for an idol!--I hope he will not _always_ expect to be worshipp'd--Mr. Risby _too_--Well, I'll mention you all, one after another, as fast as possible.--Let me see, where did I leave off?--Oh! we were just out of our carriages.--And now for the pathetics:--an attempt;--a humble attempt only.

Lady Powis, Lady Mary, and their darling, had given us the slip.--What could be done?--I mean with Mr. Morgan:--he was quite outrageous.--What could be done? I repeat.--Why Sir James, to pacify him, said, we should all go and surprize them in his Lady's dressing-room.--We did go;--we did surprize them;--great God! in what an attitude!--The exalted Lady Powis at the feet of Lady Mary;--Miss Powis kneeling by her;--she endeavouring to raise them.--I said it would be an attempt at the pathetics;--it must be an attempt:--I can proceed no farther.

To be sure, Mr. Morgan is a queer-looking man, but a great favourite at the Abbey.--He took Miss Powis on his knee;--call'd her a hundred times his dear, dear daughter;--and I could not forbear laughing, when he told her he had not wore a tye-wig before these twenty years. This drew me to observe his dress, which, unless you knew the man, you can have no idea how well it suited him:--a dark snuff-colour'd coat with gold buttons, which I suppose by the fashion of it, was made when he accustomed himself to _tye-wigs_;--the lace a rich orrice; but then it was so immoderately short, both in the sleeves and skirts, that whilst full dress'd he appeared to want cloathing.

The _next_ morning,--ay, the _next_ morning, then it was I lost my freedom.--Disrob'd of his gingerbread coat, I absolutely sell a sacrifice to a plain suit of broad cloth,--or rather, to a noble, plain heart.--Now pray, dear Madam, do not cross me in my _first_ love;--at least, _see_ Mr. Morgan, before you command me to give him up:--and you, sweet Sir, steal to a corner of your new possession, whilst I take notice of those who are capering to my fingers ends.

You have seen Miss Powis, Madam, on Mr. Morgan's knee;--you have heard him say enough to fill any other girl than myself with jealousy:--nay, Madam, you may smile;--he really makes love to me.--But for a moment let me forget my lover;--let me forget his _melting_ sighs,--his _tender_ protections,--his _persuasive_ eloquence,--his air _so_ languishing:--let me forget them _all_, I say, and lead you to the library, where by a message flew Miss Powis.--A look from her drew me after:--I suppose Lord Darcey had a touch from the same magnet.

A venerable pair with joy next to phrenzy caught her in their extended arms, as the door open'd. My _kind_, my dear, _ever_ dear friends, said the lovely creature,--and is it _thus_ we meet? is it _thus_ I return to you?--Mr. Jenkings clasp'd her to him; but his utterance was quite choak'd:--the old Lady burst into a flood of tears, and then cried out,--How great is thy mercy, O God!--Suffer me to be grateful.--Again she flew to their arms;--again they folded her to their bosoms.--Lord Darcey too embrac'd them;--he condescendingly kiss'd their hands;--he said, next to the parents of his Fanny,--next to Lady Mary, they were most dear to him.--Miss Powis seated herself between them, and hung about the neck of Mrs. Jenkings;--whilst his Lordship, full of admiration, look'd as if his great soul labour'd for expression.--

Overcome with tender scenes, I left the library.--I acquainted Lady Mary who was there, and she went to them immediately.--Mr. Watson and Mr. Morgan for a quarter of an hour were all my own;--captain Risby, Mr. Molesworth, Lady Elizabeth and Sophia, being engag'd in a conversation at another part of the room:--you may _guess_ our subject, Madam;--but I declare, whilst listening to Mr. Watson, I thought myself soaring above earthly enjoyments.--

Sir James, who had follow'd Lady Mary, soon return'd with her Ladyship, Miss Powis, Lord Darcey, and, what gave me heart-felt pleasure, the steward and his wife;--an honour they with difficulty accepted, as they were strangers to Lord Hampstead's family.--

Who says there is not in this life perfect happiness?--I say they are mistaken:--such felicity as I here see and partake of, cannot be call'd imperfect--How comes it that the domestics of _this_ family _so_ much surpass those of _other_ people?--how is it _one_ interest governs the whole?--I want to know a thousand mysteries.--I could write,--I could think eternally,--of the first happy evening.--First happy evening do I say? And can the days that crown that eve be forgot?--Heaven forbid! at least whilst I have recollection.--My heart speaks so fast to my pen, that fain my fingers would,--but cannot keep up with it.

The next morning Lord Darcey introduc'd to us the son of Mr. Jenkings.--A finer youth I never saw!--Well might the old gentleman be _suspicious_.--Few fathers would, like _him_, have sacrificed the interest of a son, to preserve that of a friend.--To know the real rank of Miss Powis;--her ten thousand virtues;--her great expectations; yet act with so _much_ caution!--with an anxiety which the most sordid miser watching his treasure, could not have exceeded! and for _what?_--Why lest involuntarily she might enrich his belov'd son with _her_ affections.--Will you part with me to this extraordinary man?--Only for an hour or two.--A walk is propos'd.--Our ramble will not be farther than his house.--You say I may go. Thank you, Madam: I am gone.

Just return'd from the steward's, so cramm'd with sweet-meats, cake, and jellies, that I am absolutely stupified.

I must tell you who led Miss Powis.--Lord Darcey, to be sure.--No, Madam; I had the favour of his Lordship's arm:--it was Edmund.--I call him Edmund;--every body calls him Edmund;--_yes_, and at Lord Darcey's request _too_.--Never shall I forget in what a graceful manner!--But his Lordship does every thing with grace.--He mention'd something of past times, hinting he should not always have courted him to _such_ honour, presenting the hand of his belov'd.

I wish I could send you her look at that moment; it was all love,--all condescension.--I say I cannot send it.--Mortifying! I cannot even borrow _it_.

Adieu, dear Madam!--Adieu, dear Sir!--Adieu, you best of parents--It is impossible to say which is most dear to your ever dutiful and affectionate

E. DELVES.