I was happy the unassuming simplicity of the character in which I appeared, prevented comparisons which must have been extremely to my disadvantage. I was safe in my littleness, like a modest shrub by the side of a cedar; and, being in so different a style, had the better chance to be taken notice of, even where Lucy was. She was radiant as the morning star, and even dazzlingly lovely. Her complexion, for Temple would not suffer her to wear a mask at all, had the vivid glow of youth and health, heightened by pleasure, and the consciousness of universal admiration. Her eyes had a fire which one could scarce look at. Temple's vanity and tenderness were gratified to the utmost: he drank eagerly the praises which envy itself could not have refused her. My mother extremely became her character; and, when talking to Rivers, gave me the idea of the Roman Aurelia, whose virtues she has equalled. He looked at her with a delight which rendered him a thousand times more dear to me: she is really one of the most pleasing women that ever existed. I am called: we are just setting out for Burleigh, which I have not yet seen. Adieu! Yours Emily Rivers. LETTER 224. To Captain Fitzgerald. Bellfield, Thursday, two o'clock. We are returned: Colonel Willmott is charmed with Burleigh, and more in love with Emily than ever. He is gone to his apartment, whither I shall follow him, and acquaint him with my marriage; he is exactly in the disposition I could wish. He will, I am sure, pardon any offence of which his _belle paisanne_ is the cause. I am returned. He is disappointed, but not surprized; owns no human heart could have resisted Emily; begs she will allow his daughter a place in her friendship. He insists on making her a present of diamonds; the only condition, he tells me, on which he will forgive my marriage. I am going to introduce him to her in her apartment. Adieu! for a moment. Fitzgerald!--I scarce respire--the tumult of my joy--this daughter whom I have refused--my Emily--could you have believed--my Emily is the daughter of Colonel Willmott. When I announced him to her by that name, her color changed; but when I added that he was just returned from the East Indies, she trembled, her cheeks had a dying paleness, her voice faltered, she pronounced faintly, "My father!" and sunk breathless on a sofa. He ran to her, he pressed her wildly to his bosom, he kissed her pale cheek, he demanded if she was indeed his child? his Emily? the dear pledge of his Emily Montague's tenderness? Her senses returned, she fixed her eyes eagerly on him, she kissed his hand, she would have spoke, but tears stopped her voice. The scene that followed is beyond my powers of description. I have left them a moment, to share my joy with you: the time is too precious to say more. To-morrow you shall hear from me. Adieu! Yours, Ed. Rivers. LETTER 225. To Captain Fitzgerald. Temple-house, Friday.