Again, my Eliza, will we ramble together
in those retired shades which friendship has rendered so delightful to
us. Adieu, my friend, till then. Be cheerful, and you will yet be happy.
LUCY SUMNER.
LETTER LIII.
TO MRS. LUCY SUMNER.
HARTFORD.
Gracious Heaven! What have I heard? Major Sanford is married! Yes; the
ungrateful, the deceitful wretch is married. He has forsworn, he has
perjured and given himself to another. That, you will say, is nothing
strange. It is characteristic of the man. It may be so; but I could not
be convinced of his perfidy till now.
Perhaps it is all for the best. Perhaps, had he remained unconnected, he
might still have deceived me; but now I defy his arts.
They tell me he has married a woman of fortune. I suppose he thinks, as
I once did, that wealth can insure happiness. I wish he may enjoy it.
This event would not affect me at all were it not for the depression of
spirits which I feel in consequence of a previous disappointment; since
which every thing of the kind agitates and overcomes me. I will not see
him. If I do, I shall betray my weakness, and flatter his vanity, as he
will doubtless think he has the power of mortifying me by his
connection with another.
Before this news discomposed me, I had attained to a good degree of
cheerfulness. Your kind letter, seconded by Julia's exertions, had
assisted me in regulating my sensibility.
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