LADY SUSAN VERNON TO MRS. JOHNSON
Langford.
You were mistaken, my dear Alicia, in supposing me fixed at this place
for the rest of the winter: it grieves me to say how greatly you were
mistaken, for I have seldom spent three months more agreeably than those
which have just flown away. At present, nothing goes smoothly; the females
of the family are united against me. You foretold how it would be when I
first came to Langford, and Mainwaring is so uncommonly pleasing that I was
not without apprehensions for myself. I remember saying to myself, as I
drove to the house, "I like this man, pray Heaven no harm come of it!" But
I was determined to be discreet, to bear in mind my being only four months
a widow, and to be as quiet as possible: and I have been so, my dear
creature; I have admitted no one's attentions but Mainwaring's. I have
avoided all general flirtation whatever; I have distinguished no creature
besides, of all the numbers resorting hither, except Sir James Martin, on
whom I bestowed a little notice, in order to detach him from Miss
Mainwaring; but, if the world could know my motive THERE they would honour
me. I have been called an unkind mother, but it was the sacred impulse of
maternal affection, it was the advantage of my daughter that led me on; and
if that daughter were not the greatest simpleton on earth, I might have
been rewarded for my exertions as I ought.
Sir James did make proposals to me for Frederica; but Frederica, who was
born to be the torment of my life, chose to set herself so violently
against the match that I thought it better to lay aside the scheme for the
present. I have more than once repented that I did not marry him myself;
and were he but one degree less contemptibly weak I certainly should: but I
must own myself rather romantic in that respect, and that riches only will
not satisfy me. The event of all this is very provoking: Sir James is gone,
Maria highly incensed, and Mrs. Mainwaring insupportably jealous; so
jealous, in short, and so enraged against me, that, in the fury of her
temper, I should not be surprized at her appealing to her guardian, if she
had the liberty of addressing him: but there your husband stands my friend;
and the kindest, most amiable action of his life was his throwing her off
for ever on her marriage. Keep up his resentment, therefore, I charge you.
We are now in a sad state; no house was ever more altered; the whole party
are at war, and Mainwaring scarcely dares speak to me. It is time for me to
be gone; I have therefore determined on leaving them, and shall spend, I
hope, a comfortable day with you in town within this week. If I am as
little in favour with Mr. Johnson as ever, you must come to me at 10
Wigmore street; but I hope this may not be the case, for as Mr. Johnson,
with all his faults, is a man to whom that great word "respectable" is
always given, and I am known to be so intimate with his wife, his slighting
me has an awkward look.
I take London in my way to that insupportable spot, a country village;
for I am really going to Churchhill. Forgive me, my dear friend, it is my
last resource. Were there another place in England open to me I would
prefer it. Charles Vernon is my aversion; and I am afraid of his wife. At
Churchhill, however, I must remain till I have something better in view. My
young lady accompanies me to town, where I shall deposit her under the care
of Miss Summers, in Wigmore street, till she becomes a little more
reasonable. She will made good connections there, as the girls are all
of the best families. The price is immense, and much beyond what I can ever
attempt to pay.
Adieu, I will send you a line as soon as I arrive in town.
Yours ever,
S. VERNON.