I am cut to the heart; but I have
no angry feeling toward my sister. She means well, poor soul--I dare say
she means well. It would distress her, if she knew what has happened.
Don't tell her. Conceal my visit, and burn my letter.
"A last word to yourself and I have done:
"If I rightly understand my present situation, your spies are still
searching for me to just as little purpose as they searched at
York. Dismiss them--you are wasting your money to no purpose. If you
discovered me to-morrow, what could you do? My position has altered. I
am no longer the poor outcast girl, the vagabond public performer, whom
you once hunted after. I have done what I told you I would do--I have
made the general sense of propriety my accomplice this time. Do you know
who I am? I am a respectable married woman, accountable for my actions
to nobody under heaven but my husband. I have got a place in the world,
and a name in the world, at last. Even the law, which is the friend of
all you respectable people, has recognized my existence, and has become
_my_ friend too! The Archbishop of Canterbury gave me his license to be
married, and the vicar of Aldborough performed the service.
Pages:
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974