Emma; or, The Unfortunate Attachment: A Sentimental Novel

❦ Emma; or, The Unfortunate Attachment A Sentimental Novel MISS EGERTON TO MISS THORNTON LETTER 1. SUNBURY. Your absence, my dear Fanny, like that of the sun, has robbed our little village of all its charms. I traverse, in vain hopes of discovering, since you have left it, some of those beauties which heretofore presented themselves to me in every step I took: but when I have tired myself with walking, I sit down convinced how fruitless my search has been; for every charm, alas! has fled with you; and the peopled banks of the Thames present to me a prospect dull and dreary as the deserts of Arabia.—It was your presence which enlivened all the scene; and when I ceased to see you, nought else remained which could give pleasure to my eyes. Judge of the change in me when I tell you, that I have forsaken my harpsichord, refuse to join the gay throng though courted to return to it by all those who should have most interest with me, and make so little use of my voice, that my father asked me seriously this morning, “whether I had forgotten how to sing?” In answer, I attempted our favorite song in the Padlock, but had not finished the first verse when the recollection of past days deprived me of the power of proceeding—I stopped—My kind father, perceiving my distress, wiped off the trickling tear, and proposed a ride.—Glad to quit the painful task I had undertaken, and happy always to comply with his inclination, I instantly prepared myself to accompany him to Burton, from whence we were not permitted to return until late in the evening. 53 54 Emma; or, The Unfortunate Attachment Lady Catherine, in whom good-breeding and sincerity are so happily blended, as to form at once the Woman of Fashion and the best of friends, omitted nothing that could help to dissipate the chagrin she saw me labouring under; whilst her lively daughter told me, with a frankness which commanded belief, that nothing should be wanted on her part to console me for the loss of my agreeable companion; but added at the same time, that Mr. and Mrs. Bridges were unreasonable creatures, if they imagined that Miss Thornton was to bury herself in their old mansion merely to please their humor. When she had talked herself out of breath on this subject, she desired me to put on my best looks, and to prepare for conquest, as she meant to introduce me to some smarts who had promised to dine that day at Burton. The little attention I paid to her advice was, I must flatter myself, the reason why her prediction was not verified. I passed the whole day without receiving any homage more than the rules of politeness required, and left the gentlemen in the evening in as absolute possession of their hearts as if I had never made my appearance. Out of the four who were there, but one of them was entitled to any degree of my notice, as he only had any thing extraordinary in his air and address; besides which, he is a near relation of Lady Catharine’s. The other three did not rise above the rank of beaux, and owed all their gentility to the cut of their clothes: but mortals who are indebted to the dexterity of their taylors alone for all their consequence, are not subjects on which my pen can dwell with any chance of pleasing you or myself. I quit these therefore for our worthy Sidney: yet I cannot say much of him either, as he seldom writes to Sunbury; but there is a pleasure in mentioning our friends, though we have nothing new to say of them. Have you heard lately of him? You know I always supposed him more partial to you than to me; which makes me now imagine that you are better informed of his situation. I confess myself somewhat curious to know how he passes his time at Newark. He told me when he left this, that he should not be able to return to us before the autumn; but I hope some change in their orders may bring his regiment nearer to us before that time; for it is too much to be at once deprived of my Fanny, and of this amiable tutor likewise. In losing you both I have lost all relish for any employment, but that of writing...