The Sorrows of Young Werther | Page 8

with outstretched hands, and boisterously shouting his thanks. Some of them ran away at
once, to enjoy their evening meal; whilst others, of a gentler disposition, retired to the
courtyard to see the strangers, and to survey the carriage in which their Charlotte was to
drive away. "Pray forgive me for giving you the trouble to come for me, and for keeping
the ladies waiting: but dressing, and arranging some household duties before I leave, had
made me forget my children's supper; and they do not like to take it from any one but
me." I uttered some indifferent compliment: but my whole soul was absorbed by her air,
her voice, her manner; and I had scarcely recovered myself when she ran into her room to
fetch her gloves and fan. The young ones threw inquiring glances at me from a distance;
whilst I approached the youngest, a most delicious little creature. He drew back; and
Charlotte, entering at the very moment, said, "Louis, shake hands with your cousin." The
little fellow obeyed willingly; and I could not resist giving him a hearty kiss,
notwithstanding his rather dirty face. "Cousin," said I to Charlotte, as I handed her down,
"do you think I deserve the happiness of being related to you?" She replied, with a ready
smile, "Oh! I have such a number of cousins, that I should be sorry if you were the most
undeserving of them." In taking leave, she desired her next sister, Sophy, a girl about
eleven years old, to take great care of the children, and to say good-bye to papa for her
when he came home from his ride. She enjoined to the little ones to obey their sister
Sophy as they would herself, upon which some promised that they would; but a little
fair-haired girl, about six years old, looked discontented, and said, "But Sophy is not you,
Charlotte; and we like you best." The two eldest boys had clambered up the carriage; and,
at my request, she permitted them to accompany us a little way through the forest, upon
their promising to sit very still, and hold fast.
We were hardly seated, and the ladies had scarcely exchanged compliments, making the
usual remarks upon each other's dress, and upon the company they expected to meet,
when Charlotte stopped the carriage, and made her brothers get down. They insisted upon
kissing her hands once more; which the eldest did with all the tenderness of a youth of
fifteen, but the other in a lighter and more careless manner. She desired them again to
give her love to the children, and we drove off.
The aunt inquired of Charlotte whether she had finished the book she had last sent her.
"No," said Charlotte; "I did not like it: you can have it again. And the one before was not
much better." I was surprised, upon asking the title, to hear that it was ____. (We feel
obliged to suppress the passage in the letter, to prevent any one from feeling aggrieved;
although no author need pay much attention to the opinion of a mere girl, or that of an
unsteady young man.)
I found penetration and character in everything she said: every expression seemed to
brighten her features with new charms, --with new rays of genius, -- which unfolded by
degrees, as she felt herself understood.
"When I was younger," she observed, "I loved nothing so much as romances. Nothing
could equal my delight when, on some holiday, I could settle down quietly in a corner,
and enter with my whole heart and soul into the joys or sorrows of some fictitious
Leonora. I do not deny that they even possess some charms for me yet. But I read so

seldom, that I prefer books suited exactly to my taste. And I like those authors best whose
scenes describe my own situation in life, -- and the friends who are about me, whose
stories touch me with interest, from resembling my own homely existence, -- which,
without being absolutely paradise, is, on the whole, a source of indescribable happiness."
I endeavoured to conceal the emotion which these words occasioned, but it was of slight
avail; for, when she had expressed so truly her opinion of "The Vicar of Wakefield," and
of other works, the names of which I omit (Though the names are omitted, yet the authors
mentioned deserve Charlotte's approbation, and will feel it in their hearts when they read
this passage. It concerns no other person.), I could no longer contain myself, but gave full
utterance to what I thought of it: and it was not until Charlotte had addressed herself to
the two other ladies, that I remembered their presence, and observed them sitting mute
with astonishment. The aunt looked at me