Sunday, March 18, 1832

1832 March

Sunday 18

7 3/4

12 55/..

Fine morning, F 61° at 7 3/4 in my room and 56° at 9 in the balcony –

Breakfast at 9 55/.. – A little talk, half sparring –

Miss Hobart and I went to church – Mr. West preached 32 minutes till 1 2/.. from John xiii. 15 – awake the whole time – Miss H- said his sermon was more practical and better than usual – 

From church, went direct to our walk behind All Saints street and went forwards to the Minnis Rocks – Rain sent us home – Sharpish shower before we came in at 2 – Changed my dress – Had my hair pinched and dressed, cut my nails, and went downstairs at 3 to read the newspaper according to my Sunday custom –

Soon got into the Pett line of subject.  She said it was very difficult to say anything,  for I should think of it for a month.  However, on my joking and saying (in answer to her supposition I must have someone to fondle and that anyone else would even take it worse than she did), then I must take Cameron and add so much on that occasion to her wages, or, if it was a disease, I had better send for Mr. Duke. Oh, she could better understand my fondling Mr Duke.  I took this up, saying that indeed would seem wrong and unsafe. 

She, however, did not like being pressed on this point, but by and by owned that, though she could not feel all I wished for me, that was no proof she was heartless.  She might feel it for others. I might see her shew it where it was perhaps less deserved.  She was sorry to say it.  I should think it was unkind and . . . . . . .(I forget the words, but meaning something like ungrateful).  Oh no, said I, I have no right to think it either, nor do I.  But, said she, I can only urge your own argument – all- powerful fancy.  Was it not possible to esteem and respect without caressing her like a child?  I had never done anything else to annoy her.  I was nearly perfect --  all but that.  And she went on without my uttering.  

She said she was sure she said something wrong.   I then merely assured her not.  She said I looked shockingly bilious, yellow about the nose and mouth.  Yes, because my deep feelings were suppressed in silence.  She wants me hope yet what? To live with her? Or what? She wants to keep me on to take her to Italy.  Or no, make her a home if she wants one.  Why should I?  

She cannot fancy me.  ’Tis time that I should cease to fancy her.  She said it would have been much better if we had understood each other as well in November.  Why? said I.  Because then, said she, we should have avoided all this, which has been the main business of our lives, making us both unhappy.  

More in the beginning of the talk, she said I never did so to anyone else.  Yes, said I, I could name one.  Then said she quickly, it was very ridiculous.  I knew she thought of poor Sibbella. 

At the end, she kissed me, bade me kiss her, saying, now are we both going to [be] good?  I, smiling, said, it is for you, you know, to answer for yourself.   

I then read the newspaper quarter hour or more, and on coming away, she looked up from her writing.  Now are you going to think wrong? No, said I, gently and she was right. This foolish concern has been too much the business, at least of my life here. I see she cannot fancy me. I am too old for her, among other things.  I see my folly well enough now.   

’Tis well I have been gradually prepared by these last few days of thorough letting her alone.  It is not pleasant to hear one cannot be loved and that others not more worthy must be preferred. ’Tis new to me, but is doubtless for my good, and I certainly bear it the better for all I have so foolishly suffered about it. Strong indeed must be the convenience that makes me have her with me.  I do not feel as if my care would kill me.  The mortification is tiresome, but that will pass away. I will make the best I can of it, doing what seems best for my own interest at the first moment. 

It struck me, well, let Mariana leave Lawton, and let us be off.  But this would not be quite respectable? Would tie me to her and her to me, and she might not now like it as formerly, nor I either.  Wait.  Be patient.  Time will bring forward something or other  –

Miss H- had letter this morning from Mrs. de Hagemann, seeming to reflect with some colour of justice on her uncle, Mr Sullivan, and there is another packet of papers coming.  I will do the best I can for her, as before –

Came to my room at 4 20/.. Wrote the whole of the above of today till 5 20/.. , for which much the better –

Here let Miss Hobart end to me.  Nothing new needs pass between [us] and there is old enough.  I date my cure from yesterday week and Pett Level – vide pp. pages 67 and et sequens –

From 5 20/.. to 6 1/4, making out expense of Scotch tour for Charlotte Norcliffe – Dressed.  Dinner at 6 40/.. – Coffee at 8 –

Miss H-’s packet of law papers came just before dinner – busy over them all the evening. What a godsend.  She may have, perhaps like all the rest have, a thousand more to receive from an indemnity fund kept to pay an annuity.  

A little talk at last about my going by London or not undecided yet, then slightly about Italy.  She is now reconciled to take maid and carriage, but said she never should have thought of it if not put into her head.  I see she likes not the expense, but I took no notice of this. 

A moment in her room.  She asked if I was in parity with her.  Oh yes, why?  Because I looked mild. Ah, said I, you persuaded me I was bilious. She asked if I was fretting for the child.  Oh no, and kissed her at her request and came away.   I must try to have my spirits up at concert pitch by tomorrow, and then all will do.  A moment in her room and came to my room at 11 35/..

It was merely a shower that sent us home today between 1 and 2 – Tolerably fine day – F 67° at 11 49/.. in my room and 46° at 12 20/.. in the balcony, and fine moonlight night tho’ highish wind – highish Southwest wind all the day –  

WYAS Finding Numbers SH:7/ML/E/15/0041 and SH:7/ML/E/15/0042