But, before entering on the subject, let me first satisfy the anxiety of
your faithful bosom with respect to my father's legacy. All the
accounts, I am happy to tell you, are likely to be amicably settled; but
the exact amount is not known as yet, only I can see, by my brother's
manner, that it is not less than we expected, and my mother speaks about
sending me to a boarding-school to learn accomplishments. Nothing,
however, is to be done until something is actually in hand. But what
does it all avail to me? Here am I, a solitary being in the midst of
this wilderness of mankind, far from your sympathising affection, with
the dismal prospect before me of going a second time to school, and
without the prospect of enjoying, with my own sweet companions, that
light and bounding gaiety we were wont to share, in skipping from tomb to
tomb in the breezy churchyard of Irvine, like butterflies in spring
flying from flower to flower, as a Wordsworth or a Wilson would express
it.
We have got elegant lodgings at present in Norfolk Street, but my brother
is trying, with all his address, to get us removed to a more fashionable
part of the town, which, if the accounts were once settled, I think will
take place; and he proposes to hire a carriage for a whole month.
Indeed, he has given hints about the saving that might be made by buying
one of our own; but my mother shakes her head, and says, "Andrew, dinna
be carri't." From all which it is very plain, though they don't allow me
to know their secrets, that the legacy is worth the coming for. But to
return to the lodgings;--we have what is called a first and second floor,
a drawing-room, and three handsome bedchambers. The drawing-room is very
elegant; and the carpet is the exact same pattern of the one in the
dress-drawing-room of Eglintoun Castle. Our landlady is indeed a lady,
and I am surprised how she should think of letting lodgings, for she
dresses better, and wears finer lace, than ever I saw in Irvine. But I
am interrupted.-I now resume my pen. We have just had a call from Mrs. and Miss Argent,
the wife and daughter of the colonel's man of business. They seem great
people, and came in their own chariot, with two grand footmen behind; but
they are pleasant and easy, and the object of their visit was to invite
us to a family dinner to-morrow, Sunday. I hope we may become better
acquainted; but the two livery servants make such a difference in our
degrees, that I fear this is a vain expectation. Miss Argent was,
however, very frank, and told me that she was herself only just come to
London for the first time since she was a child, having been for the last
seven years at a school in the country. I shall, however, be better able
to say more about her in my next letter. Do not, however, be afraid that
she shall ever supplant you in my heart. No, my dear friend, companion
of my days of innocence,--that can never be. But this call from such
persons of fashion looks as if the legacy had given us some
consideration; so that I think my father and mother may as well let me
know at once what my prospects are, that I might show you how
disinterestedly and truly I am, my dear Bell, yours, RACHEL PRINGLE.