LETTER XXVIII.EmiliatoCharles.
I have need of your advice, dear brother. You know that my mother designed some months ago to let me have a waiting maid, and she has ever since been enquiring among her acquaintance for a proper one; and she hired one last week who had been particularly recommended to her. But this is not all; I discovered Charles, before she had been with me two days, that she was very unhappy, and I perceived when she was dressing me that she had been weeping. This affected me very much; I attempted to comfort her and find out the cause of her grief, and at last I discovered it. Why Lucy, said I, do you cry so much; tell me the reason,my good girl? consider me not as your mistress, but as your friend; perhaps I may be able to alleviate your sorrows. She could not speak, and pressed my hand in which I was holding her’s; in short, my pity for her, or as she expressed it, my goodness, gave her courage, and she told me that the lady who recommended her had concealed her real name. Her father had been a naval officer, and that her mother, by his death, was reduced to extreme poverty. She added, that she was now afflicted with a lingering illness without any means of support; and that to be enabled to assist her she determined to go to service, and was accordingly recommended to me by the lady who had assisted her mother. You may imagine what I felt, and I exclaimed, I will go directly to my mother, she is very compassionate. Poor Lucy held me back; for heaven’s sake do not do it! keep my secret. Let me serve you; letme have the satisfaction of finding a friend in a mistress, for what will become of me if I leave you? My mother made me promise not to mention my name; and she will never forgive me if I make her distress public.—I was at a loss what to resolve on, at last I said, I will keep your secret provided you live with me as a sister. But Charles, have I done right in keeping a secret from my mother? I wish I had not made the promise; yet on the contrary I must have parted with this good girl; but I considered again, I ought not to think of myself, I ought to persuade my mother to assist her. Dear Charles will you send me your advice, I shall not be easy till I hear from you, pray write soon. Do not mention this affair even to William.
Fly swiftly a few weeks, and bring my dear Charles to us! In the course of a month we expect to see you. My mother had several times tears in hereyes when she read William’s account of you: how happy are we when our parents are satisfied with us! God certainly loves you Charles, because your parents do. And you would see that I love you if you could read my heart. Farewell my dear brother.
EMILIA.
EMILIA.
EMILIA.
EMILIA.
P. S. Charles I must tell you something.—No, I will not, you like so much to surprise others, for once you shall be surprised yourself.