Let them be plays and novels, or any thing else that will amuse or
extort a smile. Julia and I have been rambling in the garden. She
insisted upon my going with her into the arbor, where I was surprised
with Major Sanford. What a crowd of painful ideas rushed upon my
imagination! I believe she repented of her rashness. But no more of
this. I must lay aside my pen, for I can write nothing else.
ELIZA WHARTON.
LETTER LI.
TO MRS. LUCY SUMNER.
HARTFORD.
Dear madam: You commanded me to write you respecting Miss Wharton, and I
obey. But I cannot describe to you the surprising change which she has
undergone. Her vivacity has certainly forsaken her; and she has actually
become, what she once dreaded above all things, a recluse. She flies
from company as eagerly as she formerly sought it; her mamma is
exceedingly distressed by the settled melancholy which appears in her
darling child; but neither of us think it best to mention the subject to
her. We endeavor to find means to amuse her; and we flatter ourselves
that the prospect of success rather increases. It would add greatly to
my happiness to contribute, in any degree, to restore her to herself, to
her friends, and to society.
We are all invited to dine abroad to-morrow; and, to oblige me, she has
consented to go.
Pray, madam, write to her often. Your letters may do much for her. She
is still feelingly alive to the power of friendship; and none can
exercise it upon her to greater acceptance or with more advantage than
yourself.
Pages:
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167