Memoirs of Miss Sidney Biddulph: Extracted from her own Journal, and now first publishedSheridan, Frances Chamberlaine
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Memoirs of Miss Sidney Biddulph: Extracted from her own Journal, and now first published
Sheridan, Frances Chamberlaine
English fiction -- 18th century
I have been searching my heart, my dear Cecilia, to try if there
remained a lurking particle of my former flame unextinguished; a flame I
call it, as we are allowed the metaphor, but it never rose to _that_; it
was but a single ray, a gentle glow that just warmed my breast without
scorching: what it might have arisen to I will not say; but I have the
satisfaction to find, that the short-lived fire is quite extinct, and
the mansion is even chilled with cold.
This was a very necessary scrutiny, before I would even entertain a
thought of Mr Arnold; and believe me, had I found it otherwise than I
say, I would rather have hazarded my mother's displeasure by owning the
truth to her, than injure any man, by giving him my hand with an
estranged heart.
I will acknowlege to you, my sister, that it was not without a struggle
I reduced my mind to this frame. My heart (foolish thing) industrious to
perplex itself, would fain have suggested some palliating circumstances
in Mr Faulkland's favour; but I forbid it to interpose. Trifler, said I,
let your guardian, your proper guide, judge and determine for you in
this important cause, whereupon so much of your future peace depends. It
sighed, but had the virtue to submit; and I arraigned Faulkland before a
little tribunal in my breast, where I would suffer reason only to
preside. The little felon, love, knocked at the door once or twice, but
justice kept him out; and after a long (and I think a fair) trial, he
was at length cast; and in order to strengthen my resolves, and justify
my mother's, as well as my own conduct, these are the arguments which I
have deduced from the evidences against him.
If Mr Faulkland feared the frailty of his virtue, why did he not fly
when he was first alarmed with the knowlege of the lady's passion for
him? If not for his own sake, yet at least for her's. If he could not
return her love, was he not cruel in suffering her to feed a hopeless
flame? But since his evil fate urged him on, and the unhappy girl lost
her honour, was he not bound to repair it? He had never seen me at that
time, was under no personal engagements to me, and might easily have
acquitted himself to my brother, from so justifiable a motive.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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