er have seen
him with indifference."

It is perhaps as prudent not to mention these circumstances either
to your brother or Emily; I thought of sending her letter to them, but
there is a certain fire in her style, mixed with tenderness, when she
speaks of Rivers, which would only have given them both regret, by
making them see the excess of her affection for him; her expressions
are much stronger than those in which I have given you the sense of
them.

I intend to be very intimate with her, because she loves my dear
Rivers; she loves Emily too, at least she fancies she does, but I am a
little doubtful as to the friendships between rivals: at this distance,
however, I dare say, they will always continue on the best terms
possible, and I would have Emily write to her.

Do you know she has desired me to contrive to get her a picture of
your brother, without his knowing it? I am not determined whether I
shall indulge her in this fancy or not; if I do, I must employ you as
my agent. It is madness in her to desire it; but, as there is a
pleasure in being mad, I am not sure my morality will let me refuse
her, since pleasures are not very thick sown in this world.

Adieu!
Your affectionate
A. Fermor.

LETTER 158.

To Mrs. Temple, Pall Mall.

Silleri, July 10.

By this time, my dear Lucy, I hope you are happy with your brother
and my sweet Emily: I am all impatience to know this from yourselves;
but it will be five or six weeks, perhaps much more, before I can have
that satisfaction.

As to me--to be plain, my dear, I can hold no longer; I have been
married this fortnight. My father wanted to keep it a secret, for some
very foolish reasons; but it is not in my nature; I hate secrets, they
are only fit for politicians, and people whose thoughts and actions
will not bear the light.

For my part, I am convinced the general loquacity of human kind, and
our inability to keep secrets without a natural kind of uneasiness,
were meant by Providence to guard against our laying deep schemes of
treachery against each other.

I remember a very sensible man, who perfectly knew the world, used
to say, there was no such thing in nature as a secret; a maxim as true,
at least I believe so, as it is salutary, and which I would advise all
good mammas, aunts, and governesses, to impress strongly on the minds
of young ladies.

So, as I was saying, _voila Madame Fitzgerald!_

This is, however, yet a secre