LETTER XXVI.
Myra to Mrs. Holmes.
IN one of my former letters I acquainted you that I suspected my brother to be in love, and now Madam, I am enabled to tell you with whom—the amiable Harriot.
Harriot attended Mrs. Francis in her journey to Rhodeisland, and our young hero has, in her absence, been dreaming of his mistress; and, in a letter to her has written a description of his visionary interview. Harriot, with whom I maintain a constant correspondence, and who keeps no secret from me, inclosed the verses in her last, when lo! the handwriting of Master Harrington.
I WAS a little mortified that the young man had kept me in ignorance of his amour all this time, and this morning determined upon a little innocent revenge—“Tommy,” said I, as he entered the room, “here is a piece of poetry, written by an acquaintance of mine—I want your judgment on it”—“Poetry or rhyme,” answered he, advancing towards me, and casting his eyes upon it—He took the letter and began to read—“Why do you blush, young man?” said I, “Harriot is a fine girl.”—
THIS produced an éclaircissement, and as the matter must remain secret, for a certain weighty reason, I am to be the confidante.
I MUST acknowledge to you, Mrs. Holmes, there is a certain je ne sais quoi in my amiable friend, that has always interested her in my favour—I have an affection for her which comes from the heart—an affection which I do not pretend to account for—Her dependance upon Mrs. Francis hurts me—I do not think this lady is the gentle, complaisant being, that she appears to be in company—To behold so fine a girl in so disagreeable a situation, might at first attract my commiseration and esteem, and a more intimate knowledge of her virtues might have ripened them into love. Certain it is, however, that whom I admire as a friend, I could love as a SISTER. In the feelings of the heart there can be no dissimulation.
PLEASE to tell Mr. Worthy, he may continue to write, and that I will condescend to read his letters.