innocence as soon?” “Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I DO suspect
it, and therefore must desire that you will both leave this House
in less than half an hour.”
“We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long
detested thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter
could have induced us to remain so long beneath thy roof.”
“Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully
exerted by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled Fortune-
hunter.” (replied he)
“Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us
some consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to
Janetta, we have amply discharged every obligation that we have
received from her father.”
“It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted
minds.” (said he.)
As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left
Macdonald Hall, and after having walked about a mile and a half
we sate down by the side of a clear limpid stream to refresh our
exhausted limbs. The place was suited to meditation. A grove of
full-grown Elms sheltered us from the East–. A Bed of full-
grown Nettles from the West–. Before us ran the murmuring brook
and behind us ran the turn-pike road. We were in a mood for
contemplation and in a Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot.
A mutual silence which had for some time reigned between us, was
at length broke by my exclaiming–“What a lovely scene! Alas why
are not Edward and Augustus here to enjoy its Beauties with us?”
“Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity’s sake forbear
recalling to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my
imprisoned Husband. Alas, what would I not give to learn the
fate of my Augustus! to know if he is still in Newgate, or if he
is yet hung. But never shall I be able so far to conquer my
tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do not I
beseech you ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name–.
It affects me too deeply –. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned
it wounds my feelings.”
“Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended you–”
replied I–and then changing the conversation, desired her to
admire the noble Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the
Eastern Zephyr. “Alas! my Laura (returned she) avoid so
melancholy a subject, I intreat you. Do not again wound my
Sensibility by observations on those elms. They remind me of
Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic–he possessed that
noble grandeur which you admire in them.”
I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress
her by fixing on any other subject of conversation which might
again remind her of Augustus.
“Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause)
“I cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own
reflections; they ever recur to Augustus.”
“What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure
varied by those delicate streaks of white!”
“Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a
momentary glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling
my Attention to an object which so cruelly reminds me of my
Augustus’s blue sattin waistcoat striped in white! In pity to
your unhappy freind avoid a subject so distressing.” What could I
do? The feelings of Sophia were at that time so exquisite, and
the tenderness she felt for Augustus so poignant that I had not
power to start any other topic, justly fearing that it might in
some unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibility by
directing her thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be silent would be
cruel; she had intreated me to talk.
From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident
truly apropos; it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman’s
Phaeton, on the road which ran murmuring behind us. It was a
most fortunate accident as it diverted the attention of Sophia
from the melancholy reflections which she had been before
indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and ran to the rescue