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<h2> LETTER 11th LAURA in continuation </h2>
<p>"I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left London) who I
am certain would not hesitate in receiving me." "Shall I order the Boy to
drive there?" said I—but instantly recollecting myself, exclaimed,
"Alas I fear it will be too long a Journey for the Horses." Unwilling
however to act only from my own inadequate Knowledge of the Strength and
Abilities of Horses, I consulted the Postilion, who was entirely of my
Opinion concerning the Affair. We therefore determined to change Horses at
the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of the Journey—. When
we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which was but a few miles
from the House of Sophia's Relation, unwilling to intrude our Society on
him unexpected and unthought of, we wrote a very elegant and well penned
Note to him containing an account of our Destitute and melancholy
Situation, and of our intention to spend some months with him in Scotland.
As soon as we had dispatched this Letter, we immediately prepared to
follow it in person and were stepping into the Carriage for that Purpose
when our attention was attracted by the Entrance of a coroneted Coach and
4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman considerably advanced in years descended
from it. At his first Appearance my Sensibility was wonderfully affected
and e'er I had gazed at him a 2d time, an instinctive sympathy whispered
to my Heart, that he was my Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be
mistaken in my conjecture I instantly sprang from the Carriage I had just
entered, and following the Venerable Stranger into the Room he had been
shewn to, I threw myself on my knees before him and besought him to
acknowledge me as his Grand Child. He started, and having attentively
examined my features, raised me from the Ground and throwing his
Grand-fatherly arms around my Neck, exclaimed, "Acknowledge thee! Yes dear
resemblance of my Laurina and Laurina's Daughter, sweet image of my
Claudia and my Claudia's Mother, I do acknowledge thee as the Daughter of
the one and the Grandaughter of the other." While he was thus tenderly
embracing me, Sophia astonished at my precipitate Departure, entered the
Room in search of me. No sooner had she caught the eye of the venerable
Peer, than he exclaimed with every mark of Astonishment—"Another
Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I see you are the Daughter of my Laurina's eldest
Girl; your resemblance to the beauteous Matilda sufficiently proclaims it.
"Oh!" replied Sophia, "when I first beheld you the instinct of Nature
whispered me that we were in some degree related—But whether
Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could not pretend to determine." He
folded her in his arms, and whilst they were tenderly embracing, the Door
of the Apartment opened and a most beautifull young Man appeared. On
perceiving him Lord St. Clair started and retreating back a few paces,
with uplifted Hands, said, "Another Grand-child! What an unexpected
Happiness is this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes, as many of my
Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son of my Laurina's 3d
girl the amiable Bertha; there wants now but the presence of Gustavus to
compleat the Union of my Laurina's Grand-Children."</p>
<p>"And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered the
room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son of Agatha your
Laurina's 4th and youngest Daughter," "I see you are indeed; replied Lord
St. Clair—But tell me (continued he looking fearfully towards the
Door) tell me, have I any other Grand-children in the House." "None my
Lord." "Then I will provide for you all without farther delay—Here
are 4 Banknotes of 50L each—Take them and remember I have done the
Duty of a Grandfather." He instantly left the Room and immediately
afterwards the House. Adeiu, Laura.</p>
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<h2> LETTER the 12th LAURA in continuation </h2>
<p>You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden departure of
Lord St Clair. "Ignoble Grand-sire!" exclaimed Sophia. "Unworthy
Grandfather!" said I, and instantly fainted in each other's arms. How long
we remained in this situation I know not; but when we recovered we found
ourselves alone, without either Gustavus, Philander, or the Banknotes. As
we were deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the Apartment opened and
"Macdonald" was announced. He was Sophia's cousin. The haste with which he
came to our releif so soon after the receipt of our Note, spoke so greatly
in his favour that I hesitated not to pronounce him at first sight, a
tender and simpathetic Freind. Alas! he little deserved the name—for
though he told us that he was much concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by
his own account it appeared that the perusal of them, had neither drawn
from him a single sigh, nor induced him to bestow one curse on our
vindictive stars—. He told Sophia that his Daughter depended on her
returning with him to Macdonald-Hall, and that as his Cousin's freind he
should be happy to see me there also. To Macdonald-Hall, therefore we
went, and were received with great kindness by Janetta the Daughter of
Macdonald, and the Mistress of the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen;
naturally well disposed, endowed with a susceptible Heart, and a
simpathetic Disposition, she might, had these amiable qualities been
properly encouraged, have been an ornament to human Nature; but
unfortunately her Father possessed not a soul sufficiently exalted to
admire so promising a Disposition, and had endeavoured by every means on
his power to prevent it encreasing with her Years. He had actually so far
extinguished the natural noble Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail on
her to accept an offer from a young Man of his Recommendation. They were
to be married in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when we
arrived. WE soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man as one
might have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he was
Sensible, well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to Judge of such
trifles, but as we were convinced he had no soul, that he had never read
the sorrows of Werter, and that his Hair bore not the least resemblance to
auburn, we were certain that Janetta could feel no affection for him, or
at least that she ought to feel none. The very circumstance of his being
her father's choice too, was so much in his disfavour, that had he been
deserving her, in every other respect yet THAT of itself ought to have
been a sufficient reason in the Eyes of Janetta for rejecting him. These
considerations we were determined to represent to her in their proper
light and doubted not of meeting with the desired success from one
naturally so well disposed; whose errors in the affair had only arisen
from a want of proper confidence in her own opinion, and a suitable
contempt of her father's. We found her indeed all that our warmest wishes
could have hoped for; we had no difficulty to convince her that it was
impossible she could love Graham, or that it was her Duty to disobey her
Father; the only thing at which she rather seemed to hesitate was our
assertion that she must be attached to some other Person. For some time,
she persevered in declaring that she knew no other young man for whom she
had the the smallest Affection; but upon explaining the impossibility of
such a thing she said that she beleived she DID LIKE Captain M'Kenrie
better than any one she knew besides. This confession satisfied us and
after having enumerated the good Qualities of M'Kenrie and assured her
that she was violently in love with him, we desired to know whether he had
ever in any wise declared his affection to her.</p>
<p>"So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine that he
has ever felt any for me." said Janetta. "That he certainly adores you
(replied Sophia) there can be no doubt—. The Attachment must be
reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with admiration—tenderly press
your hand—drop an involantary tear—and leave the room
abruptly?" "Never (replied she) that I remember—he has always left
the room indeed when his visit has been ended, but has never gone away
particularly abruptly or without making a bow." Indeed my Love (said I)
you must be mistaken—for it is absolutely impossible that he should
ever have left you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation.
Consider but for a moment Janetta, and you must be convinced how absurd it
is to suppose that he could ever make a Bow, or behave like any other
Person." Having settled this Point to our satisfaction, the next we took
into consideration was, to determine in what manner we should inform
M'Kenrie of the favourable Opinion Janetta entertained of him.... We at
length agreed to acquaint him with it by an anonymous Letter which Sophia
drew up in the following manner.</p>
<p>"Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable Possessor of HER
Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do you thus delay a
confession of your attachment to the amiable Object of it? Oh! consider
that a few weeks will at once put an end to every flattering Hope that you
may now entertain, by uniting the unfortunate Victim of her father's
Cruelty to the execrable and detested Graham."</p>
<p>"Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected Misery of her
and of yourself by delaying to communicate that scheme which had doubtless
long possessed your imagination? A secret Union will at once secure the
felicity of both."</p>
<p>The amiable M'Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us had been
the only reason of his having so long concealed the violence of his
affection for Janetta, on receiving this Billet flew on the wings of Love
to Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully pleaded his Attachment to her who
inspired it, that after a few more private interveiws, Sophia and I
experienced the satisfaction of seeing them depart for Gretna-Green, which
they chose for the celebration of their Nuptials, in preference to any
other place although it was at a considerable distance from
Macdonald-Hall. Adeiu Laura.</p>
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<h2> LETTER the 13th LAURA in continuation </h2>
<p>They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either Macdonald or
Graham had entertained any suspicion of the affair. And they might not
even then have suspected it, but for the following little Accident. Sophia
happening one day to open a private Drawer in Macdonald's Library with one
of her own keys, discovered that it was the Place where he kept his Papers
of consequence and amongst them some bank notes of considerable amount.
This discovery she imparted to me; and having agreed together that it
would be a proper treatment of so vile a Wretch as Macdonald to deprive
him of money, perhaps dishonestly gained, it was determined that the next
time we should either of us happen to go that way, we would take one or
more of the Bank notes from the drawer. This well meant Plan we had often
successfully put in Execution; but alas! on the very day of Janetta's
Escape, as Sophia was majestically removing the 5th Bank-note from the
Drawer to her own purse, she was suddenly most impertinently interrupted
in her employment by the entrance of Macdonald himself, in a most abrupt
and precipitate Manner. Sophia (who though naturally all winning sweetness
could when occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex)
instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry frown on the
undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of voice "Wherefore her
retirement was thus insolently broken in on?" The unblushing Macdonald,
without even endeavouring to exculpate himself from the crime he was
charged with, meanly endeavoured to reproach Sophia with ignobly
defrauding him of his money... The dignity of Sophia was wounded; "Wretch
(exclaimed she, hastily replacing the Bank-note in the Drawer) how darest
thou to accuse me of an Act, of which the bare idea makes me blush?" The
base wretch was still unconvinced and continued to upbraid the
justly-offended Sophia in such opprobious Language, that at length he so
greatly provoked the gentle sweetness of her Nature, as to induce her to
revenge herself on him by informing him of Janetta's Elopement, and of the
active Part we had both taken in the affair. At this period of their
Quarrel I entered the Library and was as you may imagine equally offended
as Sophia at the ill-grounded accusations of the malevolent and
contemptible Macdonald. "Base Miscreant! (cried I) how canst thou thus
undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless reputation of such bright
Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect MY innocence as soon?" "Be satisfied
Madam (replied he) I DO suspect it, and therefore must desire that you
will both leave this House in less than half an hour."</p>
<p>"We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long detested
thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter could have induced
us to remain so long beneath thy roof."</p>
<p>"Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully exerted
by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled Fortune-hunter." (replied
he)</p>
<p>"Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us some consolation
to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to Janetta, we have amply
discharged every obligation that we have received from her father."</p>
<p>"It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted minds."
(said he.)</p>
<p>As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left Macdonald
Hall, and after having walked about a mile and a half we sate down by the
side of a clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted limbs. The place
was suited to meditation. A grove of full-grown Elms sheltered us from the
East—. A Bed of full-grown Nettles from the West—. Before us
ran the murmuring brook and behind us ran the turn-pike road. We were in a
mood for contemplation and in a Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot.
A mutual silence which had for some time reigned between us, was at length
broke by my exclaiming—"What a lovely scene! Alas why are not Edward
and Augustus here to enjoy its Beauties with us?"</p>
<p>"Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity's sake forbear recalling to
my remembrance the unhappy situation of my imprisoned Husband. Alas, what
would I not give to learn the fate of my Augustus! to know if he is still
in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I be able so far to
conquer my tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do not I
beseech you ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name—. It
affects me too deeply—. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it
wounds my feelings."</p>
<p>"Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended you—"
replied I—and then changing the conversation, desired her to admire
the noble Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the Eastern Zephyr.
"Alas! my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a subject, I intreat
you. Do not again wound my Sensibility by observations on those elms. They
remind me of Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic—he possessed
that noble grandeur which you admire in them."</p>
<p>I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress her by
fixing on any other subject of conversation which might again remind her
of Augustus.</p>
<p>"Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause) "I cannot
support this silence you must not leave me to my own reflections; they
ever recur to Augustus."</p>
<p>"What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure varied by
those delicate streaks of white!"</p>
<p>"Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a momentary
glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling my Attention to an
object which so cruelly reminds me of my Augustus's blue sattin waistcoat
striped in white! In pity to your unhappy freind avoid a subject so
distressing." What could I do? The feelings of Sophia were at that time so
exquisite, and the tenderness she felt for Augustus so poignant that I had
not power to start any other topic, justly fearing that it might in some
unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibility by directing her
thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be silent would be cruel; she had
intreated me to talk.</p>
<p>From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident truly
apropos; it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman's Phaeton, on the
road which ran murmuring behind us. It was a most fortunate accident as it
diverted the attention of Sophia from the melancholy reflections which she
had been before indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and ran to the
rescue of those who but a few moments before had been in so elevated a
situation as a fashionably high Phaeton, but who were now laid low and
sprawling in the Dust. "What an ample subject for reflection on the
uncertain Enjoyments of this World, would not that Phaeton and the Life of
Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking Mind!" said I to Sophia as we were
hastening to the field of Action.</p>
<p>She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged by the
horrid spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly attired but
weltering in their blood was what first struck our Eyes—we
approached—they were Edward and Augustus—. Yes dearest
Marianne they were our Husbands. Sophia shreiked and fainted on the ground—I
screamed and instantly ran mad—. We remained thus mutually deprived
of our senses, some minutes, and on regaining them were deprived of them
again. For an Hour and a Quarter did we continue in this unfortunate
situation—Sophia fainting every moment and I running mad as often.
At length a groan from the hapless Edward (who alone retained any share of
life) restored us to ourselves. Had we indeed before imagined that either
of them lived, we should have been more sparing of our Greif—but as
we had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no more, we knew
that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about. No sooner did
we therefore hear my Edward's groan than postponing our lamentations for
the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth and kneeling on each side of
him implored him not to die—. "Laura (said He fixing his now languid
Eyes on me) I fear I have been overturned."</p>
<p>I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible.</p>
<p>"Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you die, what
has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which Augustus was arrested and
we were separated—"</p>
<p>"I will" (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, Expired—.
Sophia immediately sank again into a swoon—. MY greif was more
audible. My Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare, my face became
as pale as Death, and my senses were considerably impaired—.</p>
<p>"Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, incoherent
manner)—Give me a violin—. I'll play to him and sooth him in
his melancholy Hours—Beware ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid's
Thunderbolts, avoid the piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look at that
grove of Firs—I see a Leg of Mutton—They told me Edward was
not Dead; but they deceived me—they took him for a cucumber—"
Thus I continued wildly exclaiming on my Edward's Death—. For two
Hours did I rave thus madly and should not then have left off, as I was
not in the least fatigued, had not Sophia who was just recovered from her
swoon, intreated me to consider that Night was now approaching and that
the Damps began to fall. "And whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us
from either?" "To that white Cottage." (replied she pointing to a neat
Building which rose up amidst the grove of Elms and which I had not before
observed—) I agreed and we instantly walked to it—we knocked
at the door—it was opened by an old woman; on being requested to
afford us a Night's Lodging, she informed us that her House was but small,
that she had only two Bedrooms, but that However we should be wellcome to
one of them. We were satisfied and followed the good woman into the House
where we were greatly cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire—.
She was a widow and had only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen—One
of the best of ages; but alas! she was very plain and her name was
Bridget..... Nothing therfore could be expected from her—she could
not be supposed to possess either exalted Ideas, Delicate Feelings or
refined Sensibilities—. She was nothing more than a mere
good-tempered, civil and obliging young woman; as such we could scarcely
dislike here—she was only an Object of Contempt—. Adeiu Laura.</p>
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