 I own. I did not expect to have succeeded so soon, and without Peevee, who had now a feeling in the affair, I certainly should not. I resolved directly to make the best use of the advantage I had gained. I told Peevee that he should be married the next day. He was so transported at the thought, that he begged I would give him leave to go to Mrs. Gerard to declare his love and his good fortune together, for sir, said he, you know, she promises to accept of whoever you propose, and I hope she will not despise your choice as much as she thinks she shall. Softly, softly, good Mr. Peevee, your violent hurry will spoil all. I do not mean that you shall see her till to-morrow. Not till to-morrow? Oh, sir, do I beseech you, sir, allow me. She will think it very cruel. Poor Peevee, thought I, thou wilt have enough of her! Simpleton, to him, this day's suspense will forward your business more than all you could say to her in seven hours. Is it not enough, you are sure of her? We have other things now to mind. What plan of life do you propose to pursue? You know I have promised to do handsomely for you. Sir, said he, I always intended to follow the business I was bred to, and, if this piece of extraordinary good fortune had not happened to me, I did purpose, though you have been the best master to me, to have asked your permission to return to my friends in order to settle in my trade, as I have some capital of my own. But to be sure, sir, I shall be directed in this as in everything else, by your will and pleasure. I approve of your design entirely, said I, but there are certain conditions that must be previously settled between you and me. In the first place tell me honestly, what is the capital you say you are worth? He answered his father had left him about eight thousand Levera, which were in the hands of a banker in Paris, whom he named to me, and referred me to him for confirmation of the truth of what he told me. Well, said I, this will go a good way towards setting you up in your own business. Where do you think of settling? He answered Paris was the best place for his trade. On that I put an absolute negative. I said Paris was too much frequented by my countryman to be a proper place for Mrs Gerard to make her appearance in, as she was likely to meet there with more of her acquaintance than might be convenient. I told him I had no objection to any other large provincial town. He said he was born in Dijon, and should like to go thither as he had many friends there. Be it so, said I, what I purpose doing for you is this. Mrs Gerard has eight hundred pounds of her own. I will add as much more to it for which I will give you my bond till I can have the money remitted from England, and this you shall settle on her that she may be sure of a support in case of your death, and the interest you will allow her for her own separate use, but without her knowing that you are tied down to it, that you may have it in your power to oblige her. He made no reply but acquiesced with a low bow. I laughed at the simplicity of his countenance. Pee-vay, said I, though I have taken great care of Mrs Gerard's interest, I do not intend to neglect yours, provided you make no demur to the terms. You already know my reasons for proceeding as I have done in this affair. I have great cause to apprehend Mrs Gerard's vindictive spirit, if she should find means which I know she will endeavour at to lay open the real state of this transaction to some people in England. This might frustrate all that I have been at so much pains to accomplish. Be it your care, then, to prevent it. I cannot wish you to use harsh measures with your wife, but if you have a dress enough to prevent a correspondence with any one in England, an elopement for both your sakes I am not willing to suppose, though I think for some time at least you must keep a strict eye over her. If, as I said, you can prevent correspondence, I think it will answer my purpose, and that I may make it your interest to do this, I will bind myself by as strong an obligation as the law can make, to pay you two hundred pounds a year English, so long as you keep your wife within the bounds prescribed. Provided, if, after three years, I find these terms no longer necessary, they shall, if I then choose it, become void. I shall also add something to enable you to fit up a house and a shop, that you need not be under a necessity of breaking in upon your capital. Peavey's gratitude overflowed at his lips for this, as he called it, noble provision. He said he made no doubt of gaining so far upon Mrs. Gerard's affections as to be able effectually to fulfil his covenant without using violent methods, but said he at all events I warrant, you shall hear no more of her. Preliminary's thus adjusted I sent for a notary of reputation, to whom I gave instructions to draw up two separate articles for the purposes mentioned. The latter was to be a secret between Peavey and me, as it was by no means proper for Mrs. Gerard to be let into it. The other, which regarded her own particular settlement, was intended for her perusal and approbation. I charged the notary to use dispatch, and he promised to have both the papers ready by next morning, as also the bond, which I was to give Peavey for the payment of eight hundred pounds. The lawyer brought the papers according to his promise, and they were signed, sealed, and delivered in due form. That which was to be the private agreement between Peavey and me was worded in consequence of an article which I drew up myself, and made Peavey sign, wherein I set forth particulars at large. Peavey was very impatient to see his beloved, but a little uneasy lest she should come to know the situation he had been in. I bid not to be discouraged telling him I should set off that circumstance of his having been my gentleman, for so I chose to call him, in the most favourable light. I presented him with a very elegant suit of clothes, which I had never worn, and which fitted him very well. As you know, he is nearly of my size. You cannot imagine how handsome the fellow looked when he was dressed, but he had linen in everything else suitable to his clothes. I then desired him to wait on his goddess, but he who had been so eager a little before was now quite abashed at the thought of making his pretensions known to the lady, and entreated me to present him to her. I saw he was quite disconcerted at the serious scene he was going to engage in. I pitied him and told him I would go with him to Mrs. Gerard, but that it was proper first to prepare her a little. He said he thought so too. I immediately sent for Rachel, and speaking to her at the door without letting her see Peavey, I bid her tell her mistress that I purposed making her a visit in half an hour, and should introduce the gentleman whom I expected she would, according to her promise, receive at my hands for her husband, reserving to herself still the liberty of choosing the other alternative in case she disliked him. Peavey showed the solicitude of a lover after this message was sent to his mistress. Poor dear lady, said he, how I pity her! What must she suffer in this interval? But your presence, Mr. Peavey, said I, will dispel all her fears and make her the happiest of women. The poor fellow was out of countenance, and I daresay as anxious as Mrs. Gerard. As I received no answer from her to my message, I construed her silence as leave to attend her, and accordingly at the appointed time I entered her apartment, leading Peavey by the hand. She was sitting at a table, leaning her head on one of her hands. She cast a look of scorn at me, and immediately withdrew her eyes, not so much as daining to glance them at Peavey, little imagining that it was he who accompanied me, though she knew it was her intended bridegroom. Peavey was not able to speak. He trembled, and like a true enamorato ran to her, clapped one knee to the ground, and ventured, though with great diffidence, to take one of her hands. This action obliged the haughty fair one to vouchsafe him a glance of her eye. Her surprise, spite of her assumed heirs of grand ear, was not to be concealed. It was apparent. She coloured, and though she intended to have been solemn and lofty, she even stared. And I could discover a little gleam of pleasure, dance over her countenance. What! Mr. Peavey! And then she looked at me as if for an explanation. Yes, madam, said I, Mr. Peavey is the man. I was going to say the happy man, but I did not mean to compliment her. My business was to make her think I was doing her a favour. It has been your good fortune to make a conquest of him, and in the hope of your making him a good wife, as I am sure he will make you a good husband, I have consented to the match. And I spoke this in the tone of one who, thinking he has conferred a great obligation on an undeserving object, expects to be thanked for it. The woman, with all her art and assurance to boot, was quite confounded. I did not give her time to recover herself, but taking the settlement out of my pocket and reading it to her, look there, madam, and see if I have injured you in the disposal of your person and your fortune. Mrs. Gerard, always alert when her interest was in the question, took the paper, and not withstanding her confusion read it entirely out. Peavey's handsome appearance joined to her former prepossessions had made so good an impression on her that she began to think the matter worth attending to. When she had read the paper she put it into Peavey's hand. Sir, said she, it should appear by this that you have acted generously, but as I have already been imposed upon by that gentleman, looking at me, all this may, for all I know, be a deceit. But as it is not in my power to make terms for myself, it is to no purpose for me to make objections or to inquire any further. I am ready to accept your offer only. I should be glad to know who the man really is, that I am to make my husband. She spoke this was such an air of disdain that the poor lover, shrunk up and diminished in his own eyes, left me to make an answer. Please, Gerard, said I. I declare to you solemnly that there is no deception in anything which you see, nor any foul play meant to you. This young man, whom I now present to you for your husband, is well-born, and has many gentile relations in this country. He has it in his power to my certain knowledge to make good the settlement he proposes for you, which I will take care to see properly secured. That part of it which is your own property you have now in your possession, the other half I know is in his. He was brought up to a creditable business which he intends to follow. I know him to be good-natured, and of an obliging temper. He lived with me for some time and accompanied me in my travels. I suppose his having been my gentleman, which station he did not accept through necessity, will not be a material objection. And I smiled unaffected to look very proud, and I only mention it to convince you that I have no design of deceiving you, or concealing any part of his character. Peevee coloured, for I stole a side glance at him, and looked sheepish. He began an awkward compliment with a bow, and, I hope, madame, but I relieved him, speaking to Mrs. Gerard. You know all, now, madame, that can be known. Therefore, if you are disposed to keep your word, let us put an end to this business to-day. To-day, sir? Yes, to-day, madame. What occasion is there for father delay? Peevee now plucked up his courage and begged, since she had consented that she would not defer his happiness. I told her between mirth and chiding that I was in haste to get rid of my charge, and was therefore determined to make her over to Mr. Peevee that evening, and telling her I would give orders about the ceremony, left the lovers to make out for themselves a scheme of conjugal felicity. Peevee pleaded his own cause so effectually that in the evening I had the pleasure of bestowing with my own hand the inestimable treasure of virtue and meekness Mrs. Gerard, on my faithful squire, Mr. Peevee, to the no small joy of the latter, and I believe if the truth were known, to the no great mortification of the former. Mistress Rachel and myself were the only witnesses of this illustrious union. When the ceremony was over I approached according to custom to congratulate and salute the bride, but she turned her saucy cheek to me and effected the whole night vast dignity of behaviour, yet it was so foreign to her nature that it appeared ridiculous. However, it was better than ranting. I invited them both to sup with me and treated Peevee with a familiar civility which seemed to please him highly as it did him credit in the presence of his lady. After supper Peevee entreated me to complete the friendly and generous officers I had already done him by undertaking the settlement of all money matters for him. As he knew I intended to go to Paris he begged I would receive for him the sum he had in the hands of the banker, which he said if I would remit to him it would enable him to enter upon his business immediately. At the same time he, with no ill grace, presented me my bond again, assuring me he relied entirely upon my honour for the execution of my promise to him, father requesting that I would put that, together with Mrs Gerard's money if she approved it, into such hands as I should judge most proper for her advantage. I was pleased at the openness of his proceedings and promised to do everything for their mutual satisfaction, but insisted on his keeping the bond or lodging it in some proper hands till I could redeem it by paying the money which I should take care should be speedily done. I told him I thought the soon reset out for his own province the better. He said he should be ready the next day if Mrs Gerard, for he did not yet presume to call her by his own name, did not object to it. He appealed to her with his looks. She had scarce condescender to open her lips before, but now answered, You may be sure, sir, I shall not think it too soon to get out of a prison. He asked her if she chose to take her maid Rachel along with her. Certainly, she said, I should not be fond of having a servant about me by whom I could not be understood. Rachel was now called in, and the thing proposed to her. She seemed rather inclined to return to England, but I told her she could not in gratitude desert her lady in a strange country, and that if she had a mind to make me her friend, which she should find me upon any future occasion, she would attend her home and continue with her till her mistress was willing to part with her. The girl upon this consented to stay, and received Mrs Gerard's orders to prepare for their departure the next day. In the morning I made Peavey a present for his travelling charges, and Rachel another, telling her according to the account I should have of her behaviour that I would be kind to her. She made me all the promises that I could desire, assuring me that it was purely to oblige me that she had stayed with Mrs Gerard. Peavey told me that he would send the sum which his wife had in bills to me to be appropriated in the manner agreed on, for he said that having that morning mentioned to her my generosity in relation to the bond, she had owned that notwithstanding her resentment to me, she had no distrust of my honour in those particulars. I took this opportunity of telling Peavey that when he could get his wife in the humour he might prevail on her to give an instrument, empowering my steward to receive the little income of her jointure at Ashby, which I would take care should be remitted to him, for trifling as it was it might be serviceable. When they were ready to set forward on their journey I begged Leave to speak a few words to Madame Peavey by herself. She seemed not inclined to the conference, but her husband very obligingly pressed her not to part with me in enmity, and at the same time quitting the room she was obliged to hear me. I then very frankly asked her pardon for the lengths I had gone, telling her that I hoped time and her own good sense would convince her that she was more obliged to me than her passion would then give her Leave to see. Remember, Madame, I have kept my word with you. You are now married to a very deserving young man. You have a competent support during your life. Happiness is in your power if you do not willfully cast it away from you. Show now that greatness of mind of which you have so often boasted by forgiving the man who has as you think injured you, and resolving at once on a behaviour that shall in your turn entitle you not only to the forgiveness, but even to the esteem of those whom you have injured. I would have preached on and given her more good advice, but she cut me short with this decisive answer. Sir, I neither desire your counsel nor your good opinion. Mr. Peavey may deserve some regard from me, but you I never will forgive, and she flung from me. I called in Peavey, and telling him I was infinitely pleased at the good disposition I found his lady in, wished him all happiness and a safe journey, and they set out directly for Dijon. And now my dear Bidoff, stop to praise, to admire, to wonder at my virtue. I, who have had one of the finest women in England in my possession for so many days, and by the way was not her aversion, to yield up her, by me, unpolluted charms to the arms of another, add to this that it has cost me more to make one woman honest than it need have done to have made half a dozen otherwise. I had liked to have written a strange, ugly word. That was just the nib of my pen. If you relate your story with the laudable partiality of a friend, judiciously abolishing the context for which you may have many precedents, and neatly splicing together the useful fragments, shall I not appear to posterity as greatest Scipio himself? Ah, Sir George, if we knew the secret springs of many of those actions which dazzle us in the histories of the renowned heroes of old. It is not impossible but the wondrous page might dwindle into as insignificant a tale as mine is. Well, I thank my good genius that has led me safely through such a labyrinth as I had got into. In getting rid of that woman and not disgracefully either, I feel as if I had shaken off a great load. But what a graceless baggage it is not to thank me for my kindness. I, who have been far more than a father to her in saving her, first from perdition, and then settling her well in the world. But there is no obliging some tempers. I shall leave this place to-morrow, for I must hasten to Paris, to put everything in a good footing for the new married pair, and then I will go and ramble I do not care with her for another year. I shall lodge at Paris where I did before, and desire you will write to me directly, an account of all that passes within the circle of your family. Let your sister and my Lady Bidolf know in what manner I have disposed of Mrs. Gerard, but be sure to do it discreetly, and take care not to mention that paltry circumstance of her settlement or any other private agreement with Peevee. I know Mrs. Arnold's delicacy would be hurt by the knowledge of this, therefore beware of dropping the least hint of it at your peril. Tell Lady Bidolf I will pray devoutly for her daughter's happiness, if what I have done will promote it, it will not a little contribute to my own. Though I begin to feel it is not to be expected in this life, at least by such a hopeless wanderer as I am. I could sit now and indict melancholy verses, or write an elegy, or make my will, or do any other splinetic thing. In short, I have a good mind to turn monk and go into a monastery. I am sure I should have Lady Bidolf's vote for that. Adieu, my dear Bidolf, you will not hear from me again, perhaps, till I am in another region. The more I reflect on his conduct, the more I am amazed. What a mixture is there in his nature, wild to a romantic degree in his conceptions, yet how steady, how resolute, how consistent in putting those flights of fancy into act. Generous he certainly is, how few men would put themselves to the trouble and expense that he has done from such a disinterested, such a compassionate motive. Nay, on the contrary, I believe most men would be cruel enough to take a sort of pleasure in the vexation of a man who had succeeded to the love of a mistress once so valued, and would enjoy a mean triumph in being, though without reason, the object of his jealousy who had cut them off from all hope. Mr. Falkland is above this. I think myself highly indebted to him whether the scheme he has in so extraordinary a manner undertaken for my service succeeds or not, yet do I wish from my heart that the separation between Mr. Arnold and Mrs. Gerard had been brought about by any other means. What if Mr. Arnold should ever come at the truth, though I think that hardly possible? might it not leave him more estranged from me than he is even now? Or if he should, in consequence of this odd adventure, return to his poor banished wife, repent of his injurious suspicions of her, and restore her to his confidence and love, can he ever restore to her that peace she has so long been a stranger to? Will no latent sparks of former unkindness ever rekindle and light up the fire of discord? How unwillingly do we repair the unprovoked injuries which we find we have done to others? Poor Mr. Arnold, if I am so happy as to have my innocence cleared to him, how miserable will his own reflections make him? But if he is convinced, which has been my daily and hourly prayers, he shall not be unhappy if I can make him otherwise. O my dear, it is the wish, the ardent longing of my soul, to recover the esteem, though I lose the love, of Mr. Arnold. For I call that being to witness who knows the secrets of all hearts, that since I have been his wife, I have never, even in thought, swerved from that perfect and inviolable fidelity which I vowed to him. Not then must have been my sufferings deprived of his love, cast out from his house, and branded with the dreadful name of an adulterous. For where is the difference between the intention and the act? To me there is no distinction, and the husband must be gross that makes one. My mother has suffered me to tell her the substance of Mr. Falkland's letters, though she would not read them. I own I was better satisfied that she should receive her information thus, because his light manner of expressing himself in many places would have given her great offence. Sir George did not consider this when he submitted the letters to my mother's, as well as my perusal. Many grave anima-diversions did she make during my recital, and many times lift up her eyes in wonder at Mrs. Gerard's behaviour. She often said Mr. Falkland was frantic to undertake such a thing, and wished he had not taken such a terrible woman in hand. When I came to that part of the account where Mrs. Gerard had been prevailed on to write to Mr. Arnold, I begged she would give me leave to read the copy of the letter to her, as I assured her there was nothing in it that what would give her pleasure. She consented, and I read it, leaving out Mr. Falkland's apostrophes. My mother did not interrupt me, and finding she continued silent when I came to the conclusion, I looked at her, and saw tears running down her cheeks. Yes, my dear, my innocent child said she, passionately throwing her arms around me. You were wronged, God knows you were wronged, and he now proclaimed your innocence even from the mouth of your most inveterate enemy, and lifting up her eyes, thou hast turned the hearts of sinners to the wisdom of the just, therefore shall the righteous give thee thanks. And then, God forgive that woman all her sins for this one act, and God forgive Mr. Falkland his sins and reward him for this goodness. For your husband will relent now, sure he will long to take my poor forsaken virtuous child, and the tears gushed as she spoke, to his bosom again. I could not answer her for some time, my own tears almost choked me. At last I said, my dear mother, I have no doubt of Mr. Arnold's returning kindness, he will, I hope, be convinced that I am guiltless, and we may yet be happy. She dried her eyes. God send, God send, you may! But what has Mr. Falkland done with his poor penitent? I hope he will behave honourably to her. For this excellent parent had no doubt but that the letter, written by Mrs. Gerard, was, in a great measure, the result of her own contrition. For as I had not been minute in giving her a particular account of all the previous steps taken by Mr. Falkland to obtain it from her, she had not the least idea that Mrs. Gerard had writ in that manner from any other motive than the good one which appeared obvious to her. I told her that I feared Mrs. Gerard was far from being the penitent she supposed her, and then acquainted her with the true reasons which had induced her to write in the manner she had done. I then proceeded to tell her of her behaviour after writing the letter, and how Mr. Falkland had acted in consequence of that, concluding with informing her of Mrs. Gerard's being married, and provided for in a very reputable way. My mother was highly delighted at this last circumstance, for she said Mr. Falkland had no right to be the punisher of her crimes, and if he had not made a decent provision for her she would never have looked upon him, but as a dishonest person. She told me that though she was very glad upon the whole that Mr. Arnold and that bad woman were separated, yet she was nevertheless not quite so well satisfied with the manner of it. For I think, said she, that it is impossible but that a man of Mr. Arnold's good sense must, one time or other, have been convinced of his error, and of his own accord returned to a right way of thinking. I answered that might possibly have happened, but that he might have continued long enough under his infatuation entirely to ruin his family, and as for what regarded me in particular I knew of no means so likely to remove his unjust suspicions effectually as those which Mr. Falkland had taken. You are right, my dear, said she, let us hope the best. I am glad Mr. Falkland does not mean to return soon to England. There is but one event which could ever reconcile me to his doing so, and that is in order to do justice to the unfortunate Miss Birchell. If he would wipe out that blot in his character by marrying her, I should again allow him to be a good man. At present, I own, I can't help being dissatisfied, that one so blamable as I think him should have laid my daughter under the obligations which he has done. I said it would rejoice me if he could be prevailed on to make Miss Birchell the reparation she mentioned, but I feared she had no advocate with Mr. Falkland. Though I was of opinion if he were made acquainted with the life of sorrow she led, as well as her reserved and modest behaviour, he would be inclined to favour her, especially if he were to see the poor little boy. My mother said she never could expect quiet of mind till he had wiped the tears from her eyes. Miss Birchell came in while we were speaking of her. My mother is always glad to see her. The poor girl had been exceedingly shocked at Mr. Falkland's carrying away her aunt. She thought this action put such an invincible bar between her and her hopes, almost desperate before, that it went near to distract her. For though there was no consanguinity in the case, yet the degree of relationship between her and Mrs. Gerard made her look upon this amour, for so she considered it, with the utmost horror. She had often expressed her sense of it in so lively a manner, both to my mother and me, that had Mr. Falkland ever been inclined to offer her his hand, she could not, consistently either with virtue or common decency, have accepted of it. My mother, ever delighted with acts of humanity, was in haste to communicate the true state of the case to Miss Birchell. It was her interest to keep our secret, therefore I made no scruple of trusting her with it, especially as I knew it would so much contribute to her peace of mind. My mother accosted her with saying, Miss Birchell, I have something to tell you, that I believe will give you pleasure. The unhappy young woman lifted up her melancholy eyes, and shaking her head answered, that I believe madam is now impossible. Your aunt is married, said my mother, but not to Mr. Falkland, and what is more, there has never anything passed between them that need be a bar to you if he could be brought to consider you as he ought. Miss Birchell looked amazed, then turned her eyes from my mother to me as if for an explanation. My mother desired me to acquaint her with the history at large of Mr. Falkland's proceedings. I did so, and took care not to omit the tender manner in which he had mentioned her in one of his letters. She dropped some tears at the recital, and then turning to my mother, my dear good madam, you have snatched me from despair by this discovery. I was overwhelmed, I think I could not have got the better of my grief, a faint ray of glimmering hope has once more let in upon me. Mr. Falkland may yet be mine without a crime, or if he is not, I shall at least have the satisfaction to think him not so abandoned as he appeared to me an hour ago. Oh, worthy and lovely Mrs. Arnold! said she, addressing herself to me. You see how Mr. Falkland reveres you! Oh, that you would but engage in my behalf! You can influence his heart, you can guide his reason, you are his fate! Her fine eyes, which she fixed on me, filled with persuasive eloquence, led me into the whole of her meaning and conveyed more to me than it was in the power of words to do. I understand you, dear madam, said I, and it grieves my heart to think that I cannot must not interest myself for you in the manner I would most ardently undertake to do, if there were not such obstacles in my way, as it is impossible for me to get over. Mr. Falkland, you see, is free from the guilt we all feared he had plunged himself into. He is full of remorse for the injury he did you, and I dear believe retains in his heart a tender sense of your merit. He is still free! Nay, he has declared his intentions of continuing so. These circumstances give large room for hope. Your unobjectionable conduct, joined to paternal affection, may still bring about that wished for happy event, but this must be left to time and the workings of his own heart. You know Mr. Falkland is, in his natural temper, impatient of restraint. He is but a very young man, and has a few of those levities, which a little more settled age infallibly will correct, where a good heart and a good understanding are united. Pardon me, if I add, that Mr. Falkland is not ungenerous, however blamable he may have been in regard to you. All these circumstances considered, I say, may warrant your indulging a hope, that he will at last be brought to make you the reparation which is mine and my mother's wish, as much as your own. Ah, madam! said she, but Mr. Falkland is a great way from me. The remembrance of me is already but too much worn out. Distance, time, and a variety of objects must entirely efface it. Your hand, the powerful magic of your touch would soon brighten up the colouring of those faint faded traces, that he but scarcely preserves of me in his memory. What could not your pen, guided by a heart so tender, so sympathising with the grief of others, effect on the man who considers you as a divinity? If he had any hopes of you, madam, it would be presumption in me to put in my claim, but as you cannot be my rival, be my advocate, do dear angelic lady. And she lifted up her hands to me fervently. Right to Mr. Falkland, if you can restore him to me, what prayers will I not pour out for your happiness? My mother, who was greatly affected at her discourse, said to me, Indeed, my dear, if you could effect that, it would be a very meritorious work. Who knows what the high opinion Mr. Falkland has of you, and the great deference he pays to your judgment, may produce. I was sorry my good mother's openness of heart had made her enter so suddenly into mis-virtual sentiments. It encouraged her to renew her entreaties. She snatched both my mother's hands and kissed them. She wanted words to thank her. I was unwilling to appear cold in mis-virtual's interest, or to refuse doing what my mother seemed to approve, but the resolution I had long before made never to see, or on any account whatsoever, to hold the least correspondence with Mr. Falkland, determined me. If strict prudence might, on so extraordinary occasion, have dispensed with this promise, which as I had made it to my own heart I thought amounted almost to a vow, I could not, however, answer it to that decorum which I had as an enviable rule, determined to guide myself by in so critical a situation. And I resolved to have it in my power to say, in case Mr. Arnold and I were ever to be united again, that I had not in the smallest article departed from it. I told mis-virtual there was but one reason which could prevent me from complying with her request, but it was one of so much weight with me that after my informing her of it I hoped she would be so good as not to urge me farther. I did, said I, upon my parting with my husband, make a firm resolution, not only never to see Mr. Falkland, but never to receive from or write a line to him, nor in any manner whatsoever to keep up the least intercourse with him. I did not know but that Mr. Falkland, if he should learn the truth, considering himself to be, as he really was though innocently, the cause of that unfortunate separation, might either with a design of consoling me, or of vindicating himself from any suspicion of blame, have endeavoured to see me or write to me. In this I was mistaken. His prudence, or his respect for me, prevented him from attempting either. The resolution I had made, however, I thought due to my husband's honour as well as my own. The same cause still subsists, the weight of it perhaps more in my own imagination than reality, but if it even be so, indulge me, dear madam, to my mother, and dear mis-virtual in this singularity. I have not improbably the happy prospect of being restored to Mr. Arnold's esteem. Let me then be able to assure him that these eyes, these ears, these hands, have been as guiltless as my heart, and all equally estranged from Mr. Falkland. This is a declaration, I think, due to that punctilio, or give me leave to call it that delicacy, I have endeavoured to preserve in all my conduct. Mother, you always taught me to avoid even the shadow of reproach. Very true, my dearest, answered my mother. I believe you are in the right. Miss. Birtual, I think my daughter cannot, conformably to that discretion by which she has always been governed, undertake your cause at present. It did not appear to me at first in the light wherein Sidney has now put it. Miss. Birtual made no answer, but by her tears we were both affected, and I wished sincerely to have it in my power to serve her. I told her, if Mr. Arnold and I should ever be reunited, that I would endeavour to draw him so far over to our party, as to obtain his permission to correspond with Mr. Falkland, that I was sure he would join with me in wishing her the reparation she hoped for, and that I would make no scruple of engaging warmly for her in such a case. But then, madam, said she, with what face can you interest yourself for me, so long as Mr. Arnold shall think that my aunt has been criminal with Mr. Falkland? That thought, said I, did not occur to me before, as is indeed a difficulty, for should Miss. Arnold know that the elopement of Mrs. Gerard was against her will, and the letter she wrote him extorted from her by Mr. Falkland, it might perhaps injure me as much in his opinion as Mrs. Gerard's false suggestions had done before. Those intricacies, dear Miss. Birchall, must be left to time, which I hope may unravel them favourably for us all. The attempt to disclose this affair to Mr. Arnold must not be sudden. Indeed, I must be well assured of his restored confidence and affection before I can venture upon it at all. Whenever that joyful event happens, assure yourself of my best endeavours to serve you, if I have really any influence over Mr. Falkland, and circumstances should so happily concur as to put it in my powers to make use of it. Be contented, good Miss. Birchall, said my mother, with this promise which my daughter has made you. If Mr. Arnold and she should live together again, Mr. Falkland may probably return to England, as nothing, I believe, now keeps him abroad, but to avoid giving Mr. Arnold unbridge in the present unhappiest union between him and his wife. December the 18th. My brother continues sullen. He seldom visits us, and when he does the meeting on his part is cold. He has made himself master of many particulars relating to poor Mr. Arnold's unhappy connection with Mrs. Gerard, for since her elopement the whole affair has been more talked of than it was before, and her whole history traced out. She was the daughter of an innkeeper in a country town, and ran away with Captain Gerard in his march through it, upon an acquaintance of but a few days. The husband, who was passionately fond of her, concealed the meanness of her birth, and put her off to his relations for a young lady of a reputable family, with whom he got a good fortune. This induced his sister, a widow lady, the mother of Miss Birchell, to leave at her death the care of the unhappy girl, too, Captain Gerard. The captain, whose infirmities increased fast upon him a few years after his marriage, got leave to retire upon half-pay into the country, and he lived for the most part, at Ashby, a little estate which he had purchased and settled upon his wife. It seems he had a pretty good personal fortune, which he had squandered, for his fondness could refuse her nothing, except living apart from him at London, which he could never consent to, though it was always her desire. But being debarred from this, she betook herself to such pleasures as the country afforded, and was always a leading woman at horse-races, assemblies, and such other amusements, as were within her reach, which, together with expensive treats at home, and card-playing, her supreme delight, left her at his death, which happened about five years after their marriage, in the indignant state she, in her account of herself to Mr. Falkland, acknowledges. It was then Mr. Arnold became acquainted with her, and in the manner she represented, for my brother has lately fallen into the acquaintance of that very relation, as she calls him, which she mentions, as Mr. Pinnock, at whose lodgings they first met. This gentleman, who was in reality nothing more than a humble servant of the ladies, though she called him cousin, the better to screen a more particular connection, was so provoked at her deserting him in favour of Mr. Arnold, whom he said he was sure she had ensnared, that he made no scruple of telling all he knew of her. He said she had two brothers, very great profligates, one of whom had been put into prison for forgery, and would have been hanged, had not Mr. Arnold, at the expense of a very considerable sum, saved his life. The other, some very mean retainer to the law, a plausible fellow and Mrs. Gerard's great favourite, for whom she had art and influence enough to prevail on Mr. Arnold, to purchase a considerable employment. It would be endless, said Mr. Pinnock, to tell you the variety of stratagems she made use of to get money out of those whom she had in her power, and who were able to supply her. I, for my part, was not rich enough for her, which was the chiefry's nicer pose of Mr. Arnold supplanting me, and I take it for granted that those arts which she practised on me to little effect succeeded better with him. One time her poor father was in jail, and his whole family would be undone, and her centre-begging, if he was not relieved from his distress by a trifling sum, fifty pounds would do. Another time her sister's husband, a country shopkeeper, was upon the point of breaking, and would be inevitably ruined if he was not assisted, and then she had a formal letter to produce from her sister upon the melancholy occasion. These circumstances she made no scruple of laying open to me, as she knew I was no stranger to her origin, having resided for some years in the town where she formerly lived, though I did not know her then. Her mother was a Roman Catholic, and in order to have her daughter brought up in the same principles with herself, had sent her to a relation in Dublin, where she received her education in a nunnery. Though her artifices to get money from me were grown quite stale, I made no doubt but that she practised them all over again on poor Arnold. She was not contented with the lodging's I had placed her in, but obliged him to take a handsome house, elegantly furnished for her, a very fine chariot and horses were the next purchase. For a hired one the lady would not vouch safe to sit in, and I am sure I have seen her in the boxes at the play with as many jewels on her as any lady there. All these ungrateful particulars which Sir George had received from Mr. Pinnock, he took a sort of ill-natured pleasure in repeating to my mother and me. Unhappy, Mr. Arnold, into what a gulfed it's thou unwarily plunge thyself, is it not amazing that this affair was even so long a secret? That it was so to me is not strange, for it is natural to suppose that I must have been the last person to receive a hint of this nature, but that my brother should never have been informed of it is surprising. To certain Mr. Arnold was at first very cautious in his visits, making them generally at night, and even then he never was carried in his own chariot. I am shocked to think of the mischiefs which I fear he has done to his temporal affairs, for his children's sake as well as his own, but since he is delivered from the thralldom in which this woman kept him, the rest I hope by future good management may be retrieved. Would to heaven I have nothing left me to lament but the waste of his fortune! Sir George says he is sure he is deeply in debt. The lawsuit too I hear is likely to go against us, if that is to be the case it will be a blow indeed. December the nineteenth. How miserable is a state of suspense! I am if possible more unhappy now than when I was without hope of recovering my dear, and now more dear because undone, Mr. Arnold. Our cause came to a final hearing many days ago, though I was not told it until this morning, and only prepared for it yesterday, and it is given against us. Mr. Arnold by this stroke loses nine hundred pounds a year besides considerable costs. Nothing now remains but my jointure, into what an abyss of misery is my unfortunate husband plunged. Oh, that I could see him, that I could but regain his confidence, that I might soothe and comfort him in his afflictions. My brother is very unkind. After telling me the fatal news he said, he thought I should be much to blame if I returned to Mr. Arnold, though he were even desirous of it. What prospect can you have with him but beggary, said he, for I suppose his next step will be to weedle you out of your jointure, the only support you have now left for yourself and your children. Oh, brother, brother, said I, you have no heart. I could say no more, for I burst into tears. Perhaps you may not be put to the trial, answered he cruelly, but if you should, you are to take your own way, Mrs. Arnold, for my advice had never any weight with you or your mother. My mother replied, Sir George, you do not use either me or your sister well. Let her in the name of God follow the dictates of her duty. If the unfortunate Mr. Arnold sees his error, can you be so un-Christian as to endeavour at stealing his wife's heart against him? Oh, son, this is not the way to obtain forgiveness of God for your own faults, far be it from Sidney to reject the Prophet's love of repenting husband. My dear, to me, don't afflict yourself. If your husband has grace, you shall both be as happy together as I can make you. Miss Fortunes, said Sir George, are mighty great promoters of grace. I don't doubt that Mr. Arnold will repent most heartily. The having lavished away his fortune and the hopes of repairing it may give him grace to take his wife again. Sir George, said my mother angrily, you will oblige me if you say no more on the subject. I have done, madam, said my brother, and took his leave. Section 25 Of Memoirs of Miss Sidney Bidoff This Libra Vox recording is in the public domain. Memoirs of Miss Sidney Bidoff by Francis Sheridan. Volume 2 continued. I had almost forgot to tell you by what means the widow Arnold carried her suit against us. You may remember I informed you she had at the beginning threatened to produce a witness who would prove that her late husband had been with her on a particular night, a very little time before his death. Who this witness was had been kept an impenetrable secret. She did, however, produce him when the cause came to be tried, and the witness proved to be Mrs. Gerrard's brother, that very brother whom Mr. Arnold had redeemed from a jail and peril of hanging. This man, it seems, had been very intimate with her during her husband's lifetime while she was in a state of separation from him, but whether he was at all acquainted with the late Mr. Arnold, we have no other testimony than his own. Tis, however, most certain that she was suspected of an intrigue with him, and in all human probability that child which is to inherit the Arnold estate is his. This concealed villain undoubtedly was the person who first suggested this vile attempt to her, and secretly abetted her in all her proceedings. It was after the commencement of the lawsuit that he was put into jail, and Mr. Arnold little imagined when under Mrs. Gerrard's influence he obtained his liberty, that he was bestowing on this wicked wretch power to ruin him. I do not imagine Mrs. Gerrard was in this secret. I suppose she would not knowingly have contributed to beggar the man by whom she was supported in affluence. But, be that as it will, the evidence of this fellow who was bred an attorney, together with that of Mrs. Arnold's maid, established the proof on which the issue of the whole affair turned. Unfortunately for us, we could find nobody capable of giving any testimony which would overthrow theirs, and the irregularity of the late Mr. Arnold's life gave these evidences an appearance at least of truth. God forgive those people the foul play they have made use of. I would not possess a king's revenue on the terms they now enjoy the Arnold estate. It is whispered that the widow is supposed to be privately married to this attorney. She owes him a recompense for I fear he is risked great deal to serve her. The wretch had the effrontery to acknowledge his obligation to Mr. Arnold, and at the same time declared that nothing but the justice which he owed the widow in the orphan of his late friend could have extorted a testimony from him to his prejudice. I need not tell you in what light my poor Mr. Arnold looks upon this affair. He said to a gentleman from whom Sir George had the account that he was justly punished for having furnished such a villain with the means of undoing him, and execrates the memory of Mrs. Gerard, who prevailed on him to do it, for he scarce knew the fellow at that time, having only seen him once or twice at her lodgings. But let me drop the mention of such wretches at once. My heart is full of impatience to hear something from Mr. Arnold. Mrs. Gerard's letter I fear has had no effect on him. He must have received it long since. What can this dreadful silence mean? My mother now expects the advances towards a reconciliation should be on his side. I would, I were rid of my suspense. December the 23rd. Lord and Lady V arrived in town last night. They sent a compliment to me as soon as they alighted at their house, which was not till nine o'clock. And this morning, at the same hour, I was agreeably surprised by a visit from my Lord. Surprised, I say, for he is seldom out of bed so soon. I had him up to my dressing-room. My mother had never seen him, and as she was undressed, did not choose to appear. Well, my good lady! said he, after saluting me. Have you heard anything from Mr. Arnold lately? I told him I had not. I don't know whether you are apprised, said he, that I am in all your secrets. Mr. Falkland and I correspond, and I know how all matters stand. You are not made acquainted, perhaps, that I was aiding in a betting to a certain scheme. I told him that Mr. Falkland had written my brother the whole account, and that I was sure of his kind participation in everything that related to me. That you may depend on, said he. The thing cannot be named that I would not do to serve you. I understand from Mr. Falkland that Mrs. Gerard has written to Mr. Arnold. Have you heard of no effects produced by that letter? I told him I had never heard a word from Mr. Arnold since he had received it. I hope it will not be long before you will, answered he. I called on you this morning on purpose to prepare you, for I suspect Arnold wants to be reconciled. He wrote to me ten days ago conjuring me in the strongest terms to come to town, and to prevail on Lady V to accompany me. He said he had something of the utmost consequence to consult us upon, in which our friendship might be of most material service to him. He concluded with telling me that the whole happiness of his life depended on our complying with his request. Now, as this was immediately on his receiving Mrs. Gerard's letter, for I had regular intelligence of the whole proceeding, I flatter myself, that it was in consequence of that letter he made his request, with a design as I hope of getting us to mediate between you. As I could not just then attend his summons, having business at V Hall to detain me, I wrote him word that I should certainly be in town as on this day. And that Lady V would be sure to accompany me. I have not heard from him since till last night, when I sent a message to his house to desire his company to breakfast with me this morning. I expect him at ten o'clock. Now, I had a mind to inform you of this opening, which to me seems to promise very favourably for you. I shall not mention my having seen you so that I can say nothing from you to him. I asked him, was my lady acquainted with the affair as it really stood? He said she was, for that she had been so exasperated against Mr. Falkland on his first going off with Mrs. Gerard, whom she thought he had run away with upon a very different design, that he was very glad to undercede her, and that she would presently have done the same by me, after the letter she had wrote me about that affair, but that he prevented her, thinking Mr. Falkland would be better pleased to unravel the mystery himself. He added that she was too much my friend not to enter warmly into my interests, and had been extremely impatient to come to town. I thanked my lord for his and his lady's friendship. He then asked me how our lawsuit went on. I answered it had been determined some days ago, and we had lost our cause. He turned pale at the news. Good God! what an unfortunate man your husband is, said he. What will become of him? He put an end to this visit immediately, telling me that either he or his lady would call on me in the afternoon to let me know the result of their conference with Mr. Arnold. I flew to my mother to tell her the joyful news. She offered up a prayer that it might turn out, as my lord v. had suggested, and said she herself was of the same opinion. With a heart elated with pleasure, my dear Cecilia, I have scribbled over the occurrences of this morning. God grant I may be able to close my journal of today with the happy, wished-for event. I never counted the clock with such impatience as I did this day, waiting the promised visit of lord and lady v., and I ordered myself to be denied to all company but them. At one o'clock good lady v. came without my lord. When I heard the rap at the door and saw from the window it was her equipage, I was seized with such a trembling, that when lady v., who hurried upstairs, entered the room I was unable to speak or salute her. She ran up to me, and taking me by the hand affectionately embraced me. My mother was present. I made a shift to present her to lady v. She then led me to a chair and sat me down. Come, my dear Mrs. Arnold, said she, recover your spirits, all will be well. I began to apologise for giving her ladyship the trouble of coming to me, when it was my duty to have waited on her. Do not mention ceremony, said she. I was in too much haste to bring you good news to think of forms. We have had Mr. Arnold with us till within this half hour, and indeed he more deserves your pity now than your resentment. Oh, I feared it, said I, and tears started into my eyes. If you are so affected at the barely knowing this, said my lady, I must not tell you the particulars of our conversation. It will be enough for you to know that your husband is convinced of the injuries he has done you, and desires nothing more than your forgiveness. My dear lady v., said I, excuse me, my heart is really so softened with sorrow I cannot command my tears, but I beg that may not deter you from indulging me with the particulars of what passed between you and Mr. Arnold. If I do weep, as my tears no longer proceed from grief, do not let them interrupt you. My mother joined in begging Lady V. to inform us of all that had passed in that morning's interview. Lady V. obligingly complied, and gave the following account of it. Mr. Arnold came exactly at ten o'clock. My lord was just returned from his visit to you, and had got in but a few minutes before him. Poor Mr. Arnold looked abashed upon seeing me. His countenance and his voice discovered the humility of his mind. After the first compliments were over we sat down to breakfast. Your husband drank a dish of coffee but ate nothing. We were in haste that the servant should leave the room and dismiss them as soon as we could. My lord then opened the conversation by saying, well Arnold, here are Lady V. and I. Come to attend your summons. Now tell us what service you have to employ us in, for I assure you we are both ready to do any act of friendship in our power. My lord I thank you, said Mr. Arnold. The friendship you honour me with, I flattered myself some time ago, might have been serviceable to me. I must not now think of making use of it. When I requested the favour of Lady V's presence and yours in town, I meant to entreat your interposition between me and Mrs. Arnold. I know I have wronged her so. That were she any other the woman she is, I could never hope for forgiveness. But from her I did hope it, and thought your good offices might bring about a reunion. But that is all over. I neither desire nor wish it now. I am sorry for that, Mr. Arnold, said I. I am sure nothing in this world besides can ever make either your lady or you happy. Do you know, madam, said he, and the poor man really looked wildly, that you see an absolute beggar before you, a man without a foot of land, overwhelmed with debts, and who shortly will not have a house to shelter himself in. I deserve it all. But Mrs. Arnold does not. Do you think after all the wrongs I have done her I will involve her in poverty too? No, Lady V, no, I am not such an abandoned wretch. All I desire now of your ladyship is to tell my wife that I beg her forgiveness, and request she will take care of our two children, though the scanty pittance that her mother's scrupulous nicety retained for her will hardly enable her to do it. But while Lady Bidoff lives, I believe she will not see them want. He uttered all this with so much eagerness, that we never once attempted to interrupt him. As I did not then know the loss of your cause, I was surprised to hear him speak of his circumstances being so desperate, and really feared his head was turned. But my lord soon explained the matter by saying he had heard that mourning of the issue of his lawsuit, yet still hoped that matters were not so bad as he represented them to be. He then told Mr. Arnold he was extremely glad to find that his wife had recovered his good opinion, adding that he always had the highest one of your virtue. It amazes me, Mr. Arnold, said I, that you ever could entertain a doubt of it. So it does mean now, madam, said Mr. Arnold, but I have been for this year past, in a dream, a horrid delirium from which that vile sorceress who brought it on me has but just now roused me. I wanted to draw Mr. Arnold to this point. Have you heard anything of her since she left you, sir? said I. He drew a letter out of his pocket and, without answering me, put it into my hands and desired me to read it, then rose off his chair and walked about the room. My lord and I read Mrs. Gerard's letter together. We were both curious to see it, Mr. Falkland, having mentioned it in his correspondence. Mr. Arnold, said I, returning it to him. Without any such proof as this I believe nobody that knows your lady would think her guilty, nor could I ever entertain so bad an opinion of Mr. Falkland. I have known him from his boyish days and never had reason to believe him capable of a dishonourable action. I believe him innocent as to this, answered Mr. Arnold, but you cannot conceive the pains that were taken by that vile woman to make me think otherwise. Neither would her retracting all she said now work so much on me as other corroborating circumstance. Her running away with the very man of whom she raised my jealousy, after having plundered me of almost everything I had to bestow, does not look like a sudden resolution. The scheme must have been concerted for some time, and Falkland I suppose was her paramour at the very time she so basely slandered Mrs. Arnold, for I am not so blind even to the personal charms of my wife, as to imagine the greatest inconstant would grow tired of her in so short a time. Why, I must own, said my lord, that is a natural inference, which joined to the perfecting falsehood of Mrs. Gerard puts it out of dispute that she, traduced Mr. Falkland and your wife merely to gain her own wicked ends, one part of which I am inclined to think she confesses in her letter, that is to say, to have you entirely in her own hands, though not for the reason she there gives. Her other motive, I think, now plainly appears by the consequence. She thought, if you were jealous of your wife, you would hardly suspect her with the same person, whose visits to my knowledge were pretty frequent at her house. Then, said I, throwing my weight into the scale, the unobjectionable character of Mrs. Arnold, her pious education, her modest and affectionate behaviour to you for so long a time, and the recluse life that she has led with her mother since you parted makes the thought of any ill in her quite incredible. Lady V, said your husband, impatiently, I am as conscious of it all as you can possibly wish me. I know I am a blind infatuated monster. What can you say more? Falkland, I thank you for ridding me of such a pest. Oh, that you had taken her before I was so cursed as to see her face. If you had, I should not now be the undone wretch I am. My Lord, my Lady, will you do me the favour to tell my wife and Lady Bidoff how contrite I am? And he laid his hand on his breast. While I had anything to offer her besides repentance, I could have thrown myself at her feet for pardon and conjured her to return to my bosom and to her own deserted house, from whence my madness drove her. But I have now no house to bring her to, and do not desire even to see her face. His manner was so vehement that I really feared the agitations of his mind might disorder his brain. My Lord told him he was too desponding, and said he hoped all might yet be retrieved. He then inquired into the particular situation of his affairs, which are, I am grieved to say it, very bad indeed. We were told, when we were in Kent, that a part of South Park was mortgaged, but did not believe it, as we knew it was settled on you. Upon being asked, Mr. Arnold himself acknowledged it, confessing at the same time that he had been prevailed on to do this, in order to deliver Mrs. Gerard's brother out of jail, and that it was the other villainous brother who had transacted the affair for him. I find, besides this mortgage, that with the costs of his suit he owes near seven thousand pounds, to answer which he says he is not worth six pence. His plate and the furniture of his houses in town and country accepted. Though I had shed many tears while Lady V was describing Mr. Arnold's behaviour at the beginning of her discourse, I heard this latter part of her account with a composed attention. Lady V took me by the hand. I am sorry, dear Mrs. Arnold, said she, that I am obliged to repeat such uncomfortable tidings to you, but you must know all soon or late, and it is as well now as hereafter. I am sure your patient temper and good sense will enable you to bear up against misfortunes. My Lord then proceeded to ask Mr. Arnold if his friends could make his circumstances a little easier, and Mrs. Arnold would consent to live with him again had he any objection to it. My Lord, answered your husband, from the moment I heard of Mrs. Gerard's elopement, I flattered myself with the hopes of being restored to my senses and my peace by a reunion with my wife, for I owned to you her innocence from that very time became evident to me, and it was me a shame that prevented me from making my application to Lady Bidolf for the purpose of a reconciliation. The receipt of Mrs. Gerard's letter, whether the wretch has really felt compunction, or whether her cruelty to me in order to make me more unhappy has drawn it from her, I know not. The receipt of that letter, I say, wherein Mrs. Arnold's innocence is so entirely cleared, convinced me I ought not to delay making my wife all the reparation in my power, though I was shocked to think how much I had foolishly squandered away. I was still in possession of a state of nine hundred pounds a year, for though it was then in litigation my lawyers amused me to the last with the belief that I should carry my suit, and notwithstanding that the payment of my debts would lessen it, I knew, with one of her contented and gentle spirit, it would be sufficient to make us happy, and her jointure which I hoped soon to clear added to it would enable us to sit down in the country in tolerable affluence, and I had come to a resolution to make it the study of my life to render Mrs. Arnold happy. I know she is an admirable economist, I resolved to imitate her, and I hoped in time to retrieve our circumstances. These were my sentiments, my lord, when I wrote to you, to beg that you and my lady would come to town. I own I had not courage enough to make any efforts towards the so much wishful reunion without the interposition of friends whose good hearts I knew would rejoice should their endeavours bring it about, and whose influence over Mrs. Arnold I was certain would make the accomplishment easy. Do me the justice, my lord, to believe that if I had not thought it in my power to have made Mrs. Arnold amends for the injuries I've done her, this hand should have been sooner employed to send a pistol bullet through my head than to have endeavoured to procure your mediation in the affair. But, as things have turned out, I would not for this earthly globe involve her in my ruin, nor shall her family have it to say I sought their friendship when I was abandoned of every other hope. As to that point, answered my lord, I can bear you witness that your first overdue to me, in order to bring about a reconciliation, arrived before there was any likelihood of your standing in need of assistance, either from your wife's friends or your own, for I believe they all, as well as yourself, were pretty sure of your carrying your suit, which, if you had done, your affairs might with a little care have soon been in a great measure retrieved. Therefore, if they could attempt to make the ungenerous charge you apprehend, I can confute it and will to all the world, and for the rest we must manage as well as we can. My lord then proposed some methods to make his affairs a little more easy, as I am sure his friendship for Mr. Arnoldon knew will make him endeavour to settle them to the best of his power. My Lady V's politeness and generosity would not suffer her to mention the particulars of the methods proposed, but I have reason to believe my good lord V will interest himself rather farther than I wish. When my lord and Mr. Arnold, she proceeded, had talked over these matters for some time in which my lord had much adieu to get the better of Mr. Arnold's obstinacy, he told him that I should undertake to explain his situation to you and Lady Bidoff, that he made no doubt of your tenderness in forgetting all that was past, and being willing to embrace his fortunes, let them be what they would, foresaid he, I am sure Mrs. Arnold would think herself happier with you on three hundred pounds a year than she would with twice so many thousands without you. Oh, madam, said I, interrupting her, my lord has read my very heart. My lady smiled and went on. Lady Bidoff said my lord is so good a woman that as she must look on you in the light of a repenting sinner, you may be assured of her pardon and favour. That, he may rest satisfied of, answered my mother. My income is not considerable, and I have never been able to lay anything by, but if Mr. Arnold can be extricated from his present difficulties, so as to be able to retire quietly into the country, I will share that little with him. My Lady V's eyes moistened, mine were quite suffused. I assure you, said Lady V, it was not without abundance of arguments used by my lord, and downright quarreling on my side, that Mr. Arnold could be prevailed on to consent that any other application could be made on his part than that of acquainting you with his penitence and communicating his resolution, together with his motives for it, of never seeing you more. He says Sir George Bidoff never was his friend, and as he supposes him more now his enemy than ever, he would be sorry to be under any obligations to him. My mother, who never concealed her thoughts, answered directly, of that I believe he need not be apprehensive. Sir George is not very liberal. He would have persuaded his sister against returning to her husband, and I am sure will not be willing to contribute towards making their reunion happy. Besides, as he is now going to be married, he troubles himself with little else than his intended bride. Lady V seemed shocked. I was sorry my mother had spoke so freely of Sir George to one who was an entire stranger both to him and her, but she is so good that even her errors proceed from virtue. Well, said Lady V, we have now seen the worst side of the prospect. Let us turn our eyes towards the pleasant of you. What do you mean to do, Mrs Arnold? Mean Madame, said I, to go directly to my husband. Well, well replied she, smiling, that, I suppose, but how do you purpose to settle your little household matters? I think, said my mother, the best thing you can do is to go directly down to my house in Wiltshire. You know that and the furniture and mine during my life. They go to your brother afterwards. Send for your two children, and honest Martha, dispose of your house in town and all your effects here, as well as at South Park and in Essex. Let the produce be applied to the payment of debts as far as it will go. You will then have your juncture to receive, to which I will add two hundred pounds a year, which will enable you by degrees to pay off the rest of your debts, and I do not see why you may not live comfortably besides. Extremely well, said my lady, with Mrs Arnold's good management, especially as they will not have the expense of house rent. I am sure my lord will willingly undertake to manage Mr Arnold's affairs in town for him, and I would have you both get into the country as fast as you can. I am entirely of your opinion, Lady V, said my mother. What do you think, child? Dear madam, I think that I am the happiest woman breathing, such a parent as you, such a friend as Lady V, and such a husband, as I promise myself, Mr Arnold will prove. How can I be otherwise than happy? I am ready to do, to do joyfully, whatever you direct. Dear Lady V, ought not I to see poor Mr Arnold immediately? Why, said Lady V, I would not have you surprise him. He is to dine with us today, and I will prepare him to receive you in the afternoon at my house if you choose it. By all means, my good Lady V, I will come to your house at five o'clock. Well, said she, bring a few spirits with you and do not let the interview soften you too much. Lady V then took her leave, as she said she could hardly have time to dress before dinner. My mother and I spent the interval between that time and evening in talking of our future scheme of life. Remember, my dear, said she, that when I die you lose the best part of your income, as my house, together with my jointure, revert to Sir George, and you have no great reason to expect that he will continue either to you. It therefore behoves you to use economy as well for the sake of saving a little, as to accustom yourself to live upon a little. I would myself accompany you down to the country, but as my son's marriage is so near, he would have reason to take it amiss of me, and I know I shall have his imperious temper to battle with, on our making up matters between you and your husband. But I shall make myself easy by reflecting that we have both acted agreeably to our duty. You never, my Cecilia, experience such a situation as mine, and therefore can have no idea of what I felt in expectation of seeing the person whose presence I most ardently wished for, and yet was afraid of the interview. My fears were not on my own account, conscious as I was of my innocence, I had no apprehensions on that head, but I could not bear the thoughts of beholding poor Mr. Arnold in the state of humiliation in which I supposed I should find him. I wished the first encounter of our eyes over, and as the appointed hour approached my anxiety increased. I was faint and seized with universal tremors. My mother did all she could to encourage me, and a little before five o'clock I was put into a chair and carried to Lord V's house. End of Section 25. Section 26 of Memoirs of Miss Sydney Bidoff. This lip of octric recording is in the public domain. Memoirs of Miss Sydney Bidoff by Francis Sheridan. Volume 2 continued. My lady met me on the stairs. I could scarce breathe. She carried me into her dressing-room and made me sit down till I recovered a little. She was affected herself, but endeavoured to raise my spirits. I wish, said she, smiling, you had been in my Lord's hands. He would have prepared you better than Lady Bidoff has for this meeting. He has been trying to make Mr. Arnold drunk, in order to give him courage, she says, to face you. Poor man, he could scarcely credit me when I told him you were coming this evening. She proposed my taking a few drops, which I agreed to, and bidding me pluck up my spirits. She said she would send Mr. Arnold to me. I catched Lady V by the hand, and begged she would desire him from me, not to mention anything that was past, but let our meeting be as if the separation had only been occasioned by a long journey. She left me, and Mr. Arnold in a few minutes entered the room. He approached me, speechless. My arms were extended to receive him. He fell into them. We neither of us spoke. There was no language but tears, which we both shed plentifully. Mr. Arnold sobbed as I pressed him to my bosom. My dearest Sidney, said he, can it be is it possible that you love me still? If Lady V delivered my message to you, my dear Mr. Arnold, sure you would not speak thus to me. I understand you, said he. Oh, my dear, I never wished for wealth or length of days till now, but what I can I will. Forbear my love, said I. Remember my request. I wanted to give his thoughts another turn. My mother longs to see you. When will you visit her? I will throw myself at her feet, said he. I want a blessing from her, and she has sent me one, throwing his arms again around me. How much are we obliged to good Lord and Lady V, said I? Oh, they have opened to me the path to heaven, he answered. If it had not been for them, I think we had better go to them, said I. They will partake in our happiness. He took me by the hand without answering and led me into the drawing-room. I have, my sister, endeavoured to recollect our disjointed conversation in order to give it to you as well as I could. All that I can remember I have set down though I am sure a good deal more passed. Lord V's eyes sparkled when he saw us enter together, but my lady and he, I suppose, had agreed beforehand to say nothing that could recall any past griefs, for they only smiled at our entrance, and my Lord said, Arnold, you really hand your lady in with as gallant an air as if you were married within these three hours. And so I have been, my Lord, answered Mr. Arnold. My lady presently called for tea, and we chatted as if nothing had happened. The servants waiting in the room made this necessary, though I could observe the two footmen who had lived a good while with Lord V, looking with no small astonishment at Mr. Arnold and me. When the servants were withdrawn, my lady introduced the subject of our going out of town. She had before acquainted him with my mother's proposal, and I repeated what she had said to me on that head after Lady V had left us. My Lord renewed the kind offers of his friendship, and said, as we meant so shortly to part with our house in St. James Street, that he thought it would be better for us not to go into it at all, but to make use of his house while we stayed in town, as perhaps Mr. Arnold might not like to be at Lady Bidoff's on account of Sir George's coming there. I readily assented to this proposal, and Mr. Arnold said it would be most agreeable to him. I told him, however, I should be glad of my mother's approbation, and asked Mr. Arnold if he did not think it would be right of us both to wait on her together, to let her know of my Lord's kind invitation. My Lady V said, by all means, and the sooner the better. If you please, I will order the chariot. I would have you see Lady Bidoff directly. Mr. Arnold said it was what he proposed doing that very night. The chariot was presently at the door. Lady V said, I have an apartment ready, and shall with Lady Bidoff's permission expect you back to-night. We promised to return, and drove to my mother's. I left Mr. Arnold in the parlour, while I ran upstairs to inform her of his being come to wait on her. Unluckily, as well as unexpectedly, I found my brother with her. I judged by his voice as I came upstairs that he was talking warmly to my mother. He stopped, however, when I came into the room. He was standing and had his hat under his arm. I concluded he was going and was not sorry for it. He cast a cold look at me, and with an ironical smile. I wish you joy, Mrs. Arnold. And he pronounced my name with an emphasis. Though I was stung at his manner, I would not let him see it. Thank you, brother, said I. God be praised I have caused to rejoice. Oh, no doubt, haunt, said he, so have we all, that your husband has been graciously pleased after beggaring you and your children, turning you out of doors and branding you with infamy, to receive you at last into his favour. Sir George, said I, you shock me exceedingly. Where is the need of those cruel repetitions? Indeed, you are very unkind. And I could not refrain from tears. The more blamable Mr. Arnold's conduct has been, said my mother, the more cause have we to rejoice in his amendment. We must make allowances for human failings. I, madam, I wish you had thought of that in Mr. Falkland's case, cried my brother. My mother seemed disconcerted at the rebuke. Sir George looked and smiled with an air of ill-natured triumph. As my mother was not quick in answering, I replied, the case is a very different, brother. What duty obliges us to pass by in a husband, it is hardly moral not to discountenance in another man. You say true, child, said my mother, a woman certainly ought not to marry a loose man, if she knows him to be such. But if it be her misfortune to be joined to such a one, she is not to reject him, but more especially if she sees him willing to reform. Where is your husband, my dear? Madam, he is below in the parlour. He has come to receive your forgiveness and your blessing. He shall have both, said my good mother, and my prayers too. Sir George looked a little surprised. I will not interrupt so pious a ceremony, said he, but I hope he will give me leave to withdraw before you desire him upstairs. Saying this, he bowed slightly to my mother and left the room. We neither of us said anything to stop him. My mother rang the bell, but before a servant could attend, he went out and clapped the door violently after him. Go, bring your husband up to me, said my mother. I begged she would not mention anything of Sir George's behaviour. I found Mr Arnold impatient at my stay. Poor man, his situation made him jealous of everything that looked like a slight. I told him my brother had been above stairs, and that I did not think a meeting would at that time have been agreeable to either of them. I waited till he was gone. I perceived he knew I was in the house, said Mr Arnold, by the blustering manner of his departure. I made no reply, but taking him under the arm led him to my mother. The best of women received him with a tenderness that delighted me. He put one knee to the ground while she embraced him with maternal love, then raised him and taking his hand and mine joined them, holding them between her own. God bless you, my children, said she, and may you never more be separated till God, who joined you, calls one or other of you to himself. Amen, cried I fervently. Amen, repeated Mr Arnold. He then besought my mother to forgive him for all the affliction he had occasioned, both to her and me, assuring her that his veneration for her, and his tenderness for me, were augmented and hundredfold, and should for the future influence his whole conduct. After this we fell on the subject of our domestic affairs. We informed my mother of my Lord V's proposal and said, as we should stay in town but two or three days, we had accepted of the offer of being at his house, rather than by our presence banish my brother from hers. He is an intractable man, said she, but as I do not wish to quarrel with my children, I think it will be prudent for you to stare at my Lord's rather than here. Mr Arnold said his obligations to Lord V were unspeakable, for that he had promised not only to see all our affairs properly settled, but to take the mortgage of South Park into his own hands, as he fears the person who now has it will not be so tender a creditor as himself. He also proposes, as the sale of my effects cannot amount to what my debts come to, to pay what may be deficient and make himself my sole creditor. If it had not been for such a prospect of this, added my dear Mr Arnold, notwithstanding your goodness and Lady Bidoff's, I had resolved never to have appeared before either of you. We determined to set out for Sydney Castle in three or four days at Farthest, and took leave of my mother for this night. December 24th I told Lady V this morning, that though I was determined never to mention our past misfortune to Mr Arnold, yet I owned I had a great curiosity to know what means Mrs Gerard had made use of to work up his suspicions to the high pitch she had done, but I would rather remain unsatisfied than mortify him by the recollection of this particular. I can inform you of her whole proceedings, answered Lady V, as I had it from Mr Arnold himself, for to tell the truth I was as curious about that as you, and took the liberty to ask your husband concerning it yesterday when we had him to ourselves. It was the interval between dinner and the hour when you were expected here in the evening that I laid hold of for this purpose, as I found him then composed enough to bear the inquiry. He told me that from the time of his going down to South Park, Mrs Gerard had begun to throw out insinuations concerning you, that had a little alarmed him. She asked him whether you made a good wife, which he answered in the affirmative. She replied she was glad of it, for that she had been told your affections were formally deeply engaged to a very fine young gentleman, who as his fortune was very much above your expectations, your mother, fearing your violent fondness for him, might lead you into some act of indiscretion, had carried you out of town on purpose to avoid him, and was glad to marry you as hastily as she could, to put you out of the reach of harm. Your husband acknowledges that he believes he had himself casually informed Mrs Gerard of the manner of his first becoming acquainted with you, and the suddenness with which his marriage was concluded. Yet she pretended to him she was before apprised of these particulars. He owns that those hints, though far from giving him any suspicion of your virtue, had nevertheless made some impression on him. You know, madam, added he, that madly devoted as my affections were to Mrs Gerard, I had always behaved to my wife with great tenderness and respect. This, I suppose, it was, which raised Mrs Gerard's jealousy, and made her leave no method unattended to part us. Mr. Falkland had not been long at V. Hall when she asked me with uncommon earnestness whether he visited at my house. I told her he did not, and asked the meaning of her inquiry. She affected to turn it off and said she had no particular reason for her question, but her manner was such as the more excited my curiosity. At length she was prevailed on to tell me that Mr. Falkland was the man, for she had not before named the person whom my wife had so passionately loved. Pre-possessed as I was with jealousy, I now took the alarm. I recollected that Mrs. Arnold had told me at Lord V's upon my first seeing him there that she had been very well acquainted with him, and I even thought that I had observed something particular in his countenance when he addressed her. I was now sure that he had come into the neighbourhood merely on her account. The hell that I suffered is not to be described for, though I really fancied that I had conceived almost an aversion to Mrs. Arnold, yet I could not bear the thoughts of being dishonoured. An accident happened which served to strengthen my suspicions. He then related the circumstances of his seeing you at the public house on the night of the fire, and of his finding Mr. Falkland putting you into your chariot. He owned at the same time that he was there with Mrs. Gerard, whom he had conducted out of the playhouse having called for her there in his return from making a visit, that he has promised to sup with her that night. Mrs. Gerard, when she had him at her house, affected to speak with some surprise of your imprudence, in suffering a young man of Mr. Falkland's known turn for gallantry, to attend you to such a place and at that hour. Though, added he, Mrs. Arnold's own account of this had satisfied me at the time, yet Mrs. Gerard's insinuations blew up the fire anew in my breast. She pretended to soothe me, but the method she took rather increased my uneasiness. She told me she believed my honour as yet had received no injury, and to preserve it effectually she thought I could not do better than to forbid my wife to see Mr. Falkland. The designing vile woman continued your husband, knowing that this prohibition would cut off her visits at the v-hall, no doubt apprehended my wife would not so readily acquiesce under it, and she was sure any resistance on her part would but the more inflame me. But in this she was disappointed, for I know sooner required Mrs. Arnold's promise on the occasion than she, without the least hesitation, made it. My requiring so extraordinary a proof of her obedience induced Mrs. Arnold to inquire into the cause, and upon my explaining it she acknowledged that Mr. Falkland had once been her lover, and that the match was broken off by her mother who had conceived some dislike to him. This was so far from gaining credit with me that it only served to corroborate what Mrs. Gerard had told me. I was, however, contented for the present with the promise that my wife had made me, of which I informed Mrs. Gerard. He then proceeded to tell me of his finding you and Mr. Falkland together one evening at the house of Mrs. Gerard. I must confess, continued he, this unexpected incident transported me beyond the bounds of patience. I suffered notwithstanding Mr. Falkland to go quietly out of the house, more for Mrs. Gerard's sake than any other consideration, and permitted her to go home with my wife, who I then thought pretended illness, waiting in the meantime at her house for her return, in order to have this extraordinary and unexpected meeting explained. Mrs. Gerard, on her return, expressed the utmost concern and resentment on the occasion. She told me that, as she had expected me that evening, which was really the case, she had sent to my wife to engage her for the next day, in order to prevent her coming to interrupt us, which was not unlikely, as Mrs. Arnold had not been to see her from the time she was laid up by the hurt she received. And she said she did not care to lay herself so open to her servants, as to have herself denied to the wife, while she entertained the husband. I myself, continued he, having the same apprehensions, had asked Mrs. Arnold on my going abroad in the morning how she purposed to dispose of herself for the day. And she had told me she intended to stay at home. Mrs. Gerard said that notwithstanding her message she was surprised with a visit from Mrs. Arnold just as soon as she was sitting down to dinner, that she however put a good face on the matter and received her very cordially, but in order to get rid of her soon, told her she was engaged abroad in the afternoon. Mrs. Arnold, she added, however thought proper to stay, and I could not avoid asking her to drink coffee. While we were at it, behold, to my very great surprise, Mr. Falkland sent in his name and immediately entered the parlour. As I guessed, continued Mrs. Gerard, that this was a settled assignation, I own I was extremely provoked at it. Mr. Falkland, with whom I formerly had a very slight acquaintance at Bath, so slight indeed as never to have been visited by him, now very audaciously made an apology for not having waited on me sooner, but said that he did not hear of my being in the neighbourhood till a day or two before, and hoped I would allow him the honour of renewing his acquaintance. I had hardly temper enough to make him a civil answer, but said I was sorry I was engaged that evening, and must be obliged to go out immediately. I thought this hint was enough for Mrs. Arnold, and that she would have had the discretion to have taken her leave. She asked pardon for having kept me at home so long, protesting she had really forgot that I told her I was engaged. She begged she might not detain me any longer saying she had ordered her chariot to come for her in the evening, and that she would wait for it as she found herself not very well and therefore not able to walk home. I now saw into the whole scheme Mr. Falkland would naturally stay to keep her company, and they would have my house to themselves. But I resolved to disappoint them both, and telling Mrs. Arnold I would leave her at home, ordered the chariot to the door. Mrs. Arnold opposed this under pretense of not giving me so much trouble, and pretending to be sick and faint said she would step to the door in order to get a little more air. I followed her hastily, and your coming in the instant, I suppose, detained Mr. Falkland in the parlour, for he could not but see you from the window. You know the rest, added Mrs. Gerard, and I leave you to judge whether Mrs. Arnold be inclined to keep her word with you in regard to Mr. Falkland. Can you blame me, madam, preceded your husband, if after what I now saw and heard I was enraged almost to madness against my wife. The base woman who had not accomplished her wicked purpose encouraged me in my desperation. In the midst of my fury, however, I could not help making one observation which was, that as Mrs. Gerard's going, or pretending to go out that evening, was a casual thing, they could hardly have expected an opportunity of being alone at her house, even though the meeting was concerted. Mrs. Gerard answered that was very true, and she suppose there was nothing at first farther intended than that the lovers should have the pleasure of seeing and conversing together, as they had been so long separated. The other, to be sure, said she, was an afterthought which the opportunity suggested. She then, after making me swear secrecy, told me that Mrs. Arnold had, when she followed her out to the door, conjured her not to tell me that Mr. Falkland and she, Mrs. Gerard, were acquainted. Four said she, as Mr. Arnold, as of a jealous temper, and has heard that Mr. Falkland formally courted me, he would not suffer me to come near your house if he knew that Mr. Falkland visited you. I promised her I would not, added Mrs. Gerard, and I made no doubt, but that she hoped, in time, relying on my good nature, my seeming fondness for her, and the easiness of my temper, to engage me as the confidant, and a better of her loose amore. Mrs. Gerard concluded with saying that she believed nothing criminal as yet, had passed between Mr. Falkland and my wife, at least, since his coming to V. Hall, but as there was no withholding a woman from her will, it was very probable that Mrs. Arnold would contrive the means of meeting, though not at her house, yet somewhere else. I raved, threatened, talked to fighting Falkland and locking at my wife. She artfully dissuaded me from such violent measures by a number of arguments which I will not trouble you with repeating. Amongst other things she said that I had no right to call Falkland to an account, merely from surmise, which was all I had to ground my charge on, and though there was the strongest reason to believe he had dishonourable designs on Mrs. Arnold, yet, as I could not directly accuse him of them, I should be laughed at for engaging in a quarrel, which to the world would appear to be so ill-grounded. As to what I threatened in regard to my wife, she said such measures only make a woman desperate, and would be far from preventing the evil. In short, that it would be better to part quietly without embroiling myself with her friends or undertaking the hateful office of becoming jailer to my wife. She found me but too well disposed to follow her fatal counsel. I wrote that cruel letter to my wife, which turned her from her home, at Mrs. Gerrard's house. She kept me with her till midnight, and had worked at my resentment to such a pitch that I determined not to see Mrs. Arnold any more. To avoid expostulations I went to a friend's house at the distance of several miles. When I came back Mrs. Gerrard told me that Mr. Falkland was absent from V Hall, and she concluded the lovers were now together. I interrupted your husband at this part of the story, pursued Lady V, and told him that to my knowledge Mr. Falkland had gone to Sydney Castle to see Sir George Badoff before you left your own house, and did not set out from thence on his return till about three weeks after your separation, at the account of which he was exceedingly surprised. Dear Lady V said he, do you think I now want any further arguments to convince me what an injurious wretch I have been to the best of women? I have one observation to make to you, Mr. Arnold, added I, which is, that your lady's misfortune was entirely owing to her great delicacy, and the nice regard she had to your peace and honour. I do not understand you, madam, he replied. No, then, said I, that your wife was well acquainted with your connection with Mrs. Gerrard from the very night that you found her at the public house, to which the accident that happened to her obliged her to go. She owned to me, at the time you drove her from her home, that she had discovered your amour from a conversation she overheard that night, between you and Mrs. Gerrard. This I extorted from her by letting her know I was no stranger to the intrigue. I then repeated to him the discourse that passed between him and that wicked woman as far as you had told me, and he very well remembered it. Now, Mr. Arnold, said I, to prove the assertion I made in regard to your lady, had she reproached you with your infidelity, as some wives would have done, though it might have occasioned a temporary uneasiness to you both, yet would it have prevented her from falling a sacrifice to that most artful and wicked of her sex? For you would not, then, have had such an improbable falsehood imposed on you, as that Mrs. Arnold would have made choice of the mistress of her husband for a confidant. And fix on her house as the rendezvous for a love intrigue. The base woman herself had no reason from Mrs. Arnold's prudent and gentle behaviour to think she was suspected by her. Your husband lifted up his eyes to heaven and striking his breast, blind, blind wretch, he cried, infatuated, ungrateful monster. Are there no amends, no amends in thy power for such goodness? I could not hear a description of my poor Mr. Arnold's deep contrition. I stopped, Lady V., and, being now informed of all I wanted to know, changed the conversation.