you both.

I make this a private excursion, because I don't chuse any body
should even guess at my views. I shall set out in the evening, and make
a circuit to cross the river above the town.

I shall not even take leave at Silleri, as I propose being back in
four days, and I know your friend Bell will be inquisitive about my
journey.

Adieu!
Your affectionate
Ed. Rivers.

LETTER 84.

To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.

Silleri, March 6.

Your brother is gone nobody knows whither, and without calling upon
us before he set off; we are piqued, I assure you, my dear, and with
some little reason.

Four o'clock.

Very strange news, Lucy; they say Colonel Rivers is gone to marry
Madame Des Roches, a lady at whose house he was some time in autumn; if
this is true, I forswear the whole sex: his manner of stealing off is
certainly very odd, and she is rich and agreable; but, if he does not
love Emily, he has been excessively cruel in shewing an attention which
has deceived her into a passion for him. I cannot believe it possible:
not that he has ever told her he loved her; but a man of honor will
not tell an untruth even with his eyes, and his have spoke a very
unequivocal language.

I never saw any thing like her confusion, when she was told he was
gone to visit Madame Des Roches; but, when it was hinted with what
design, I was obliged to take her out of the room, or she would have
discovered all the fondness of her soul. I really thought she would
have fainted as I led her out.

Eight o'clock.

I have sent away all the men, and drank tea in Emily's apartment;
she has scarce spoke to me; I am miserable for her; she has a paleness
which alarms me, the tears steal every moment into her lovely eyes.
Can Rivers act so unworthy a part? her tenderness cannot have been
unobserved by him; it was too visible to every body.

9th, Ten o'clock.

Not a line from your brother yet; only a confirmation of his being
with Madame Des Roches, having been seen there by some Canadians who
are come up this morning: I am not quite pleased, though I do not
believe the report; he might have told us surely where he was going.

I pity Emily beyond words; she says nothing, but there is a dumb
eloquence in her countenance which is not to be described.

Twelve o'clock.

I have been an hour alone with the dear little girl, who has, from a
hint I dropt on purpose, taken courage to speak to me on this very
inte