them
more;--never again be strain'd to their parental bosoms.--Forgive me, my
dearest Lady, I do not grieve that I am coming to _you_; I grieve only
that I go from _them_.--Oh God! why must my soul be divided?

Another struggle too with poor Mrs. Jenkings!--She has been on her
knees:--yes, thus lowly has she condescended to turn me from my purpose,
and suffer Mr. Smith to go back without me,--I blush to think what pain,
what trouble I occasion.--She talks of some _important event_ at hand.
She says if I go, it will, end in the destruction of us all.--What can
she mean by an _important event?_--Perhaps Lord Darcey--but no matter;
nothing, my dear Lady, shall with-hold me from you.--The good woman is
now more calm. I have assured her it is uncertain how long we may be in
London: it is only that has calm'd her.--She says, she is _certain_ I
shall return;--she is _certain_, when Mr. Powis and his Lady arrives, _I
must_ return.--Next Thursday they are expected:--already are they
arrived at Falmouth:--but, notwithstanding what I have told Mrs.
Jenkings, to soften her pains at parting, I shall by Thursday be on my
voyage;--for Mr. Smith tells me the Packet will sail
immediately.--Perhaps I may be the messenger of my own letters:--but I
am determin'd to write on 'till I see you;--that when I look them over,
my memory may receive some assistance.--Good night, my dearest Lady;
Mrs. Jenkings and Mr. Smith expects me.

F. Warley.

LETTER XXVI.

Lord DARCEY to Sir JAMES POWIS.

London.

Even whilst I write, I see before me the image of my expiring father;--I
hear the words that issued from his death-like lips;--my soul feels the
weight of his injunctions;--_again_ in my imagination I seal the sacred
promise on his livid hand;--and my heart bows before Sir James with all
that duty which is indispensable from a child to a parent.

Happiness is within my reach, yet without _your_ sanction I _will_ not,
_dare_ not, bid it welcome;--I _will_ not hold out my hand to receive
_it_.--Yes, Sir, I love Miss Warley; I can no longer disguise my
sentiments.--On the terrace I should not have disguis'd them, if your
warmth had not made me tremble for the consequence.--You remember my
arguments _then_; suffer me now to reurge _them_.

I allow it would be convenient to have my fortune augmented by alliance;
but then it is not _absolutely_ necessary I should make the purchase
with my felicity.--A thousand chances may put me in posses