He was _resting,_ I believe--his own
phrase. Philippa came in to tea, with her trusty, honourable Tertius, and
was more than gracious to N. You know her way. She _stoops_ more
charmingly than any woman I have ever met. Her manners, certainly, are to
be copied.
"His position in the county--I return to Nevile--I need not dwell upon. It
may be _brilliant._ A Justice of the Peace at thirty-two! I leave you to
imagine what he might become, building upon that, if he were blessed with
the loving companionship of a _tender, chaste and Xtian wife._ Such an one
could guide him into Green Pastures--and such an one only. Secure in the
gratitude of his inferiors, the respect of his peers, reconciled to the
Altar, and his God, one sees before Nevile the upright, prosperous,
honoured career of an English Gentleman. There is no higher, I believe.
But it is clear to all of those who truly love you, my child, that you
only can ensure him these advantages. He is sincerely penitent now--of
that I am sure. Who can tell, however, what relapse there may be unless he
is taken in hand?
"You have been his curse, but may be his Blessing. You have my prayers.
"I beg my compliments to Lady Maria Wenman if she condescends to recognise
the existence of--Your affect.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362