rcumstances, first the idol and then the abomination of
Pope; she lived for more than twenty years in France and
Italy, having left her husband without, apparently, any
quarrel between them; and she only came home in 1761 to die
next year. Like her predecessor as Queen of letter-writers,
Madame de Sevigne (to whom she was amusingly and rather
femininely unjust), she had a favourite daughter (who became
Lady Bute[104]); but, unlike her, she had a most
objectionable son who was apparently half mad. There was,
however, not the slightest madness about Lady Mary--in fact,
most of the objectors (perhaps unjust ones) to her have
held that her head was very much better than her heart. Her
most popular letters have usually been the Turkish ones,
and, at the other end of her life, her Italian descriptions:
but selections almost invariably pitch on the curious early
one in which she, so to speak, "proposes" to her future
husband rather more than, or at least as much as, she
accepts his proposal. I prefer, both as less popularised and
as more unique still, the following most business-like[105]
plan and programme of an elopement. Like Mr. Foker's fight
with the post-boy it "didn't come off" as first planned; but
Fortune favoured it later.
17. TO MR. WORTLEY-MONTAGU
Saturday morning (August, 1712)
I writ you a letter last night in some passion. I begin to fear again; I
own myself a coward.--You made no reply to one part of my letter
concerning my fortune. I am afraid you flatter yourself that my F.
[father] may be at length reconciled and brought to reasonable terms. I
am convinced, by what I have often heard him say, speaking of other
cases like this, he never will. The fortune he has engaged to give with
me, was settled on my B. [brother's] marriage, on my sister and on
myself; but in such a manner, that it was left in his power to give it
all to either of us, or divide it as he thought fit. He has given it
all to me. Nothing remains for my sister, but the free bounty of my F.
[father] from what he can save; which, notwithstanding the greatness of
his estate, may be very little. Possibly after I have disobliged him so
much, he may be glad to have her so easily provided for, with money
already raised; especially if he has a design to marry himself, as I
hear. I do not speak this that you should not endeavour to come to t
|