<p>S. VERNON. <SPAN name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"></SPAN></p>
<h2> XXVI </h2>
<p>MRS. JOHNSON TO LADY SUSAN</p>
<p>Edward Street.</p>
<p>I am gratified by your reference, and this is my advice: that you come to
town yourself, without loss of time, but that you leave Frederica behind.
It would surely be much more to the purpose to get yourself well
established by marrying Mr. De Courcy, than to irritate him and the rest
of his family by making her marry Sir James. You should think more of
yourself and less of your daughter. She is not of a disposition to do you
credit in the world, and seems precisely in her proper place at
Churchhill, with the Vernons. But you are fitted for society, and it is
shameful to have you exiled from it. Leave Frederica, therefore, to punish
herself for the plague she has given you, by indulging that romantic
tender-heartedness which will always ensure her misery enough, and come to
London as soon as you can. I have another reason for urging this:
Mainwaring came to town last week, and has contrived, in spite of Mr.
Johnson, to make opportunities of seeing me. He is absolutely miserable
about you, and jealous to such a degree of De Courcy that it would be
highly unadvisable for them to meet at present. And yet, if you do not
allow him to see you here, I cannot answer for his not committing some
great imprudence—such as going to Churchhill, for instance, which
would be dreadful! Besides, if you take my advice, and resolve to marry De
Courcy, it will be indispensably necessary to you to get Mainwaring out of
the way; and you only can have influence enough to send him back to his
wife. I have still another motive for your coming: Mr. Johnson leaves
London next Tuesday; he is going for his health to Bath, where, if the
waters are favourable to his constitution and my wishes, he will be laid
up with the gout many weeks. During his absence we shall be able to chuse
our own society, and to have true enjoyment. I would ask you to Edward
Street, but that once he forced from me a kind of promise never to invite
you to my house; nothing but my being in the utmost distress for money
should have extorted it from me. I can get you, however, a nice
drawing-room apartment in Upper Seymour Street, and we may be always
together there or here; for I consider my promise to Mr. Johnson as
comprehending only (at least in his absence) your not sleeping in the
house. Poor Mainwaring gives me such histories of his wife's jealousy.
Silly woman to expect constancy from so charming a man! but she always was
silly—intolerably so in marrying him at all, she the heiress of a
large fortune and he without a shilling: one title, I know, she might have
had, besides baronets. Her folly in forming the connection was so great
that, though Mr. Johnson was her guardian, and I do not in general share
HIS feelings, I never can forgive her.</p>
<p>Adieu. Yours ever,</p>
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