One favor more he begged leave to solicit; which was, that I would be a neighbor to his wife. "She was a stranger," he said, "and would deem my society a particular privilege." This, I told him, I could not grant at present, whatever I might do hereafter. He did not urge it any further, but inquired after my mamma, and expressed a wish to see her. I rang the bell, and ordered her and Miss Granby to be called. When they came he was very polite to them both, and, after usual compliments, told my mamma that he was happy in having obtained my forgiveness, to which he was anxious to have her seal affixed. "My daughter," said she, "is the injured party; and if she be satisfied, I shall not complain." He thanked her for her condescension, informed her that he was married, and requested her to visit his wife. We then conversed upon different subjects for a short time, and he took his leave. A sigh escaped him as he departed, and a gloom was visible in his countenance which I never observed before.
I must acknowledge that this interview has given me satisfaction. I have often told you, that if I married Major Sanford, it would be from a predilection for his situation in life. How wretched must have been my lot, had I discovered, too late, that he was by no means possessed of the independence which I fondly anticipated! I knew not my own heart, when I contemplated a connection with him. Little did I think that my regard for Mr. Boyer was so deeply rooted as I now find it. I foolishly imagined that I could turn my affections into what channel I pleased. What, then, must have been my feelings, when I found myself deprived both of inward peace and outward enjoyment! I begin now to emerge from the darkness in which I have been long benighted. I hope the tragic comedy, in which I have acted so conspicuous a part, will come to a happy end.
Julia and I talk, now and then, of a journey to Boston. As yet, I have not resolution to act with much decision upon the subject; but, wherever I am, and whatever may be my fate, I shall always be yours in truth,
I begin to hope we shall come to rights here by and by. Major Sanford has returned, has made us a visit, and a treaty of peace and amity (but not of commerce) is ratified. Eliza appears to be rapidly returning to her former cheerfulness--if not gayety. I hope she will not diverge too far from her present sedateness and solidity; yet I am not without apprehensions of danger on that score. One extreme commonly succeeds another. She tells me that she assiduously cultivates her natural vivacity; that she finds her taste for company and amusements increasing; that she dreads being alone, because past scenes arise to view which vex and discompose her.