The Mothers Recompense, Volume I. | Page 9

my very temples, dear Mary, for I did not
expect this, but I endeavoured to conceal all I felt by seizing her hand,
and imploring her, in a serio-comic, semi-tragic tone, not to praise me,
for she and papa were the two whose praises would have the effect on
me she feared.
"But you must endeavour to keep your head steady now," she
continued, "because papa sends a packet to Oakwood next week, and a
long letter for Mary from my Emmeline must accompany it; her

patience, I think, must be very nearly exhausted, and I know if you
once begin to write, a frank will not contain all you will have to say,
will it?" she added, with an arch but such a dear smile.
All my high spirits seemed for the moment to desert me, and I could
not answer her, except to cover her hand with kisses. I have told you
what she said in the way of reproof and advice, my dear Mary, but I
cannot coolly write all she said as encouragement and praise; it was
much more than I deserved, and all, therefore, that I can do, is to
continue my endeavours to feel one day rather more to merit it. I have
risen every morning an hour earlier, that I might tell you all I wished
without encroaching on my allotted hours of study; for I hope you will
not imagine I have written all this in one or two, or even three sittings;
and now do I not deserve a letter almost as long from you? If you do
not thus reward me, dread my vengeance, and write soon, for I long to
have a letter from you; of you I have heard often--but of and from,
though they may be both brothers of the family of the prepositions, are
very different in meaning. I have not written one word of Caroline or
Ellen. Am I not incurably egotistical? The former declares she is sure
you will have no time to read a letter from her, with such a volume as
mine, and Ellen says she has no time by this opportunity. I told her she
ought to get up as I did, she blushed, looked confused enough to
awaken my attention, and then said she supposed she was too lazy; and
now I really must say farewell. Mind you write all concerning yourself
and your dear mother, to whom present my very loving respects, and as
for yourself, dear Mary, let this long letter prove the sincere affection
and perfect confidence of your giddy friend,
EMMELINE.
P.S.--No young lady can write without a post-script. Mamma has
absolutely had the patience to read through my letter, and except that
she said so much of her was certainly needless, she approves of it
almost as much as she disapproved of my other, which she has just
compelled me to read. What a tissue of absurdity it contained,--worse,
it is sinful. I have had the pleasure of burning it, and I hope and trust all
my silly repinings are burnt with it. Once more, adieu.

E.H.
_From Mrs. Hamilton to Miss Greville._
I cannot, my dear Mary, suffer Emmeline's long letter to be forwarded
to you without a few lines from me, to remove all lingering fears which
you may perhaps have had, that I do not approve of your
correspondence. Believe me, my dear girl, that to see you the chosen
friend of my giddy but warm-hearted Emmeline is still, as it has ever
been from your childhood, a source of real pleasure both to Mr.
Hamilton and myself. Female friendships are, I know, often regarded
with contempt, not only by men, but frequently by the sterner
principles of our own sex; they are deemed connections of folly; that
the long letters which pass between young ladies set down by the world
as intimate friends, are but relations of all the petty incidents they may
hear or see. Such letters are also considered tending to weaken the mind
and produce false sensibility, by the terms of affection they force into
their service--the magnified expression of momentary and fleeting
emotions. That such may sometimes be the tenor of some young
people's correspondence, I do not pretend to deny, and when that is the
case, and such letters are treasured up in secret and requested to be
burnt, lest any eyes save those for whom they are intended should
chance to encounter them, then, indeed, I too might disapprove of
similar intimacies, and it was to prevent this I would not permit
Emmeline to send the first letter to which she has alluded. Every
feeling was magnified and distorted, till you must have fancied--had
not the real cause been told--that some very serious evil had happened,
or