Chapter XLIII: Letter XLIV: TO Miss GRENVILLE

I write to you, my dearest Louisa, under the greatest agitation of spirits; and know no other method of quieting them, than communicating my griefs to you. But alas! how can you remedy the evils of which I complain? or how shall I describe them to you? How many times I have repeated, _how hard is my fate_! Yes, Louisa! and I must still repeat the same. In short, what have I to trust to? I see nothing before me but the effects of deep despair. I tremble at every sound, and every footstep seems to be the harbinger of some disaster.

Sir William breakfasted with me this morning, the first time these three weeks, I believe. A letter was brought him. He changed countenance on the perusal of it; and, starting up, traversed the room in great disorder. "Any ill news, Sir William?" I asked. He heeded me not, but rang the bell with violence. "Get the chariot ready directly--No, give me my hat and sword." Before they could be brought, he again changed his mind. He would then write a note. He took the standish, folded some paper, wrote, blotted, and tore many sheets, bit his lips, struck his forehead, and acted a thousand extravagances. I could contain myself no longer. "Whatever may be the consequence of your anger, Sir William," said I, "I must insist on knowing what sudden turn of affairs has occasioned this present distress. For Heaven's sake! do not refuse to communicate your trouble. I cannot support the agony your agitation has thrown me into."

"And you would be less able to support it, were I to communicate it."

"If you have any pity for me," cried I, rising, and going up to him, "I conjure you by that pity to disclose the cause of your disorder. Were I certain of being unable to bear the shock, yet I would meet it with calmness, rather than be thus kept in the most dreadful suspence."

"Suffice it then," cried he, throwing out his arm, "I am ruined for ever."

"Ruined!" I repeated with a faint voice.

"Yes!" he answered, starting on his feet, and muttering curses between his teeth. Then, after a fearful pause, "There is but one way, but one way to escape this impending evil."

"oh!" cried I, "may you fall on the right way! but, perhaps, things may not be so bad as you apprehend; you know I have valuable jewels; let me fetch them for you; the sale of them will produce a great deal of money."

"Jewels! O God! they are gone, you have no jewels."

"Indeed, my dear Sir William," I replied, shocked to death at seeing the deplorable way he was in; and fearing, from his saying they were gone, that his head was hurt--"Indeed, my dear Sir William, I have them in my own cabinet," and immediately fetched them to him. He snatched them out of my hand, and, dashing them on the floor, "Why do you bring me these damned baubles; your diamonds are gone; these are only paste."

"What do you mean?" I cried, all astonishment, "I am sure they are such as I received them from you."

"I know it very well; but I sold them when you thought them new-set; and now I am more pushed than ever."

"They were your's, Sir William," said I, stifling my resentment, as I thought he was now sufficiently punished, "you had therefore a right to dispose of them whenever you chose; and, had you made me the _confidante_ of your intention, I should not have opposed it; I am only sorry you should have been so distressed as to have yielded to such a necessity, for though my confidence in you, and my ignorance in jewels, might prevent _my_ knowing them to be counterfeits, yet, no doubt, every body who has seen me in them must have discovered their fallacy. How contemptible then have you made us appear!"

"oh! for God's sake, let me hear no more about them; let them all go to the devil; I have things of more consequence to attend to." At this moment a Mr. Brooksbank was announced. "By heaven," cried Sir William, "we are all undone! Brooksbank! blown to the devil! Lady Stanley, you may retire to your own room; I have some business of a private nature with this gentleman."

I obeyed, leaving my husband with this _gentleman_, whom I think the worst-looking fellow I ever saw in my life, and retired to my own apartment to give vent to the sorrow which flowed in on every side. "Oh! good God!" I cried, bursting into floods of tears, "what a change eighteen months has made! A princely fortune dissipated, and a man of honour, at least one who appeared as such, reduced to the poor subterfuge of stealing his wife's jewels, to pay gaming debts, and support kept mistresses!" These were my sad and solitary reflections. What a wretched hand has he made of it! and how deplorable is my situation! Alas! to what resource can he next fly? What is to become of us! I have no claim to any farther bounty from my own family: like the prodigal son, I have received my portion; and although I have not been the squanderer, yet it is all gone, and I may be reduced to feed on the husks of acorns; at least, I am sure I eat bitter herbs. Surely, I am visited with these calamities for the sins of my grandfather! May they soon be expiated!

* * * * *

That wretch Lord Biddulph has been here, and, after some conversation, he has taken Sir William out in his chariot. Thank heaven, I saw him not; but Win brought me this intelligence. I would send for Miss Finch, to afford me a little consolation; but she is confined at home by a feverish complaint. I cannot think of going out while things are in this state; so I literally seem a prisoner in my own house. Oh! that I had never, never seen it! Adieu! Adieu!

J.S.