LETTER XXVI.
ALBERT is arrived. Were he the best and most perfect of men, were
I in every respect his inferior, it would not be less
insupportable to me to see him in possession of so many charms,
so many perfections. I have seen him, my dear friend; I have seen
this happy husband; he is a well-bred worthy man, whom one cannot
help liking. Happily for me I was not at the first meeting; my
heart would have been torn to pieces; and he has been so kind as
not to give Charlotte a single kiss before me. Heaven reward him
for it! The esteem he has for this {69} charming girl must make
me love him. He shews a regard for me; I am certainly indebted to
Charlotte for it. Women always endeavour to keep up a good
understanding between their friends: it don't often succeed; when
it does, they only are the gainers by it. Seriously, I cannot
help esteeming Albert. The coolness and calmness of his temper
form a striking contrast with the impetuosity of mine; and yet he
has a great deal of feeling, and knows the value of that
happiness which he possesses. He seems very little subject to
ill-humour; which, you know, of all faults, is the one I am lest
inclined to excuse.
He looks upon me as a man of understanding and taste. My
attachment to Charlotte, the lively interest I shew for every
thing that relates to her, augment his triumph and his love. I
will not enquire whether he may not, in private, sometimes teaze
her with little jealousies; in his place, at least, I know I
should not {70} be quite easy. Be that as it will, the pleasure I
enjoyed with Charlotte is at an end. Shall I call it folly or
blindness? -- But it wants no name -- the thing speaks for
itself. Before Albert came I knew I could have no pretensions to
her, and I did not claim any; and now here I am, like an idiot,
staring with astonishment, because another comes and takes her
from me. I gnash my teeth, I bite my lips, I hate and despise
myself: but I should despise the man still more, who could tell
me coldly, that I must reconcile myself to it, for it could not
be otherwise. Let me escape from all such silly personages! --
Yesterday, after having rambled a long time in the woods, I
returned to Charlotte's house. I found her sitting with Albert
under an arbour. Not knowing what to do, I played the fool, and
was guilty of a thousand extravagancies. "For heaven's sake,"
said Charlotte to-day, "let me beg of you that we may have no
more scenes like that {71} of last night; you are quite alarming
in your violent spirits." Between ourselves, I have taken to
watch Albert; and when he is engaged I run there, and am always
pleased when I find her alone.
