I have read a letter from Richard,—poor fellow! After dissipating much of his own time, and a great deal of my money, he has been obliged to enter into a special pleader’s office (for which I was forced to pay one hundred guineas as his admission fee), in order to become what is called a black-letter man—a mechanical lawyer. This is no great proof of abilities!
I must very shortly leave this for
Dublin, perhaps for England, if my health permits. I would like to see you
before I went. I would gladly spend an hour with you some morning, if I could
do it without annoying your family; but, doubtful of my reception, I am
somewhat afraid of adventuring. Tell me, if I can go, will I see you without inconvenience? Tell me more, in confidence. Can I be anything to you? for my hand, my
heart, and my purse are freely at your com-
| THE WILD IRISH GIRL. | 279 |
I beg to know where your father is. What is he doing, or what prospects does he entertain? Is there any prospect that his decline of life will be rescued from that miserable state! How, or where is your sister? I am interested for everything that concerns you. Unjustly were you dissatisfied at her writing to me; ’tis she who ought to be displeased, not you.
Do you spend the winter at Longford? When do you go to Dublin? I am anxious to see you, and loiter away a little time with you; but, alas! neither you nor I can afford to be idlers, at least indulgence is not for me; but I am trifling, adieu,
PS. Would to God you would write less indistinctly, I am only eternally guessing at your meaning. Perhaps, like the oracles of old, you wish your characters may have double meanings.
