Lady Powis sends to desire I will walk with her.--A sweet companion am I
for a person in low spirits!--That her's are not high is evident.--She
has shed many tears this morning at parting with Miss Warley.
Instead of eight days mortification we might have suffer'd twenty, had
not her Ladyship insisted on an absolute promise of returning at that
time.--Farewel till then.
Yours,
DARCEY.
LETTER XIII.
Miss WARLEY to Lady MARY SUTTON.
_From the Crown, at ----_.
Here am I, ever-honour'd lady, forty miles on the road to that beloved
spot, where, for nineteen years, my tranquility was uninterrupted.--Will
a serene sky always hang over me?--It will be presumption to suppose
it,--when thousands, perhaps, endowed with virtues the most god-like,
have nothing on which they can look _back_ but dark clouds,--nothing to
which they can look _forward_ but gathering storms.--Am I a bark only
fit to sail in fair weather?--Shall I not prepare to meet the waves of
disappointment?
How does my heart bear,--how throb,--to give up follies which dare not
hide themselves where a passage is made _by_ generosity, _by_ affection
unbounded.
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