Though not so good as I should be myself, I
revere those who are so; and that I hope you will own is no bad sign.
Well, but now for ourselves, and those about us.
Lady Olivia has written a letter from Windsor to Lady L----. It is in
French; extremely polite. She promises to write to me from Oxford.
Lady Anne S---- made me a visit this morning. She was more concerned
than I wished to see her, on my confirming the report she had heard of my
brother's being gone abroad. I rallied her a little too freely, as it
was before Lord G---- and Lord L----. I never was better rebuked than by
her; for she took out her pencil, and on the cover of a letter wrote
these lines from Shakespeare, and slid them into my hand:
"And will you rend our ancient love asunder,
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
It is not friendly; 'tis not maidenly:
Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
Though I alone do feel the injury."
I never, my dear, told you how freely this lady and I had talked of love:
but, freely as we had talked, I was not aware that the matter lay so deep
in her heart. I knew not how to tell her that my brother had said, it
could not be. I could have wept over her when I read this paper; and I
owned myself by a whisper justly rebuked. She charged me not to let any
man see this; particularly not either of those present: and do you,
Harriet, keep what I have written of Lady Anne to yourself.
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