I am indeed a wretch to inflict pain on so much
excellence; but, alas! what can wretchedness do but complain! Recollect how
often my hopes in you have been delayed a few days, the return of a post, a
week, a month for you to go to town—three weeks delay in your departure
added to this. And now, by every means in your power, you would delay them
still further for an indefinite time. Recollect, too, the things you have said
of yourself, your “exaggeration of your faults,” the array of
lovers you have dressed out; the times you have been on the point of matrimony
and broken it off, and think what I must suffer with a mind making food for
irritation even out of mere possibilities. Indeed, I was cut to the very heart
of heart, when you first hinted at your dislike of this place being a
sufficient motive for keeping from me. But when you
renewed this plea, ere the first pang of parting had ceased to vibrate in my
bosom, when you talked of happiness without me too great for comparison, can
you wonder that I was horror-stricken and overwhelmed with misery. I doubt not,
Glorvina, if I had duties to discharge
incompatible with our meeting for some time, like you, I should discharge them,
but I should feel the sacrifice, I should count the
hours till we met, and should be, as I now am, a very wretch till that time
arrived. I little
BETWEEN CUP AND LIP. | 503 |