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Still she could not but miss him grievously, and feel the want of some one to cling to her, bring his troubles to her, and watch for moments of private conference. Her days seemed to follow each other without animation or interest; and if it had not been for some of her lessons, and for his letters and Agnes Wortley's, she felt as if she could have done nothing but yawn till the holidays.
The letter was kindly expressed, but this was lost upon Marian in the pain its purport gave her, and the difficulty of composing an answer. She chose her smallest sheet of writing-paper with the deepest black edge, wrote as widely as she could, and used the longest words, but with all Mrs. Wortley's suggestions, she could not eke out what she had to say beyond the first page.
Wortley giving that fond, motherly kiss, Agnes catching both hands, and kissing both cheeks, Mr. Wortley giving one hearty squeeze to her hand! There they really were, she was by Mrs. Wortley's side, their own familiar tones were in her ears!
The Duke evidently intends the thing to blow over. Spoke to Lord Wharncliffe about the same thing. He said he would neither have voted nor have spoken against Government on Wednesday if he had had an idea of Wortley's resigning, because it gave the appearance of concert, and there really was none. He did not know of the letters till after they had been written.
They called for Marian early the next morning, and now she received the real greeting, corresponding to her parting, as Mrs. Wortley's second daughter. Then began the inquiries for everything at Fern Torr, animate or inanimate, broken into by Agnes's exclamations of surprise at everything new and wonderful in the streets, a happy, but a most desultory conversation.
Who knows her not? Ah, those are Wortley's eyes. How art thou honour'd, number'd with her friends; For she distinguishes the good and wise." Pope, too, wrote of her with appreciation: TO LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU In beauty or wit, No mortal as yet To question your empire has dared. But men of discerning Have thought that in learning, To yield to a lady was hard.
He whines like a whipt dog in his letters. I would my father had lived to see the soundness of Mr Wortley's reasoning, when he refused to entail his estates upon a future child of whose vices and disposition he could know nothing. 'Twould certainly be the young gentleman's utter ruin had he money to handle in reversion.
No reply to this letter reached Walpole, but his insatiable curiosity would not accept this as a check, and he wrote again on October 14: "Did you ever receive the question I asked you about Lady Mary Wortley's being confined by a lover that she keeps somewhere in the Brescian? I long to know the particulars." At the time of this incident Lady Mary was in her sixty-second year.
Another matter that merits a little more detail is the action fought by Major Stuart Wortley's "friendlies," and the work accomplished by the flotilla under Commander Keppel, R.N. It was the gunboats that transported the British infantry from their camps at Dakhala and Darmali so smartly to Wad Habeshi.
Three more indistinct forms loomed in the thick bushes just behind the leaders. A quiet whisper to Wortley to take a cool shot at the left-hand elephant, in the exact centre of the forehead, and down went the two leaders! Wortley's and mine; quickly we ran into the herd, before they knew what had happened, and down went another to V Baker's shot.
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