[Barry Lyndon by William Makepeace Thackeray]@TWC D-Link book
Barry Lyndon

CHAPTER XVI
18/21

So it is that Fate works with agents, great and small; and by means over which they have no control the destinies of men and women are accomplished.
I shall always consider the conduct of Mrs.Bridget (Lady Lyndon's favourite maid at this juncture) as a masterpiece of ingenuity: and, indeed, had such an opinion of her diplomatic skill, that the very instant I became master of the Lyndon estates, and paid her the promised sum--I am a man of honour, and rather than not keep my word with the woman, I raised the money of the Jews, at an exorbitant interest--as soon, I say, as I achieved my triumph, I took Mrs.Bridget by the hand, and said, "Madam, you have shown such unexampled fidelity in my service that I am glad to reward you, according to my promise; but you have given proofs of such extraordinary cleverness and dissimulation, that I must decline keeping you in Lady Lyndon's establishment, and beg you will leave it this very day:" which she did, and went over to the Tiptoff faction, and has abused me ever since.
But I must tell you what she did which was so clever.

Why, it was the simplest thing in the world, as all master-strokes are.

When Lady Lyndon lamented her fate and my--as she was pleased to call it--shameful treatment of her, Mrs.Bridget said, 'Why should not your Ladyship write this young gentleman word of the evil which he is causing you?
Appeal to his feelings (which, I have heard say, are very good indeed--the whole town is ringing with accounts of his spirit and generosity), and beg him to desist from a pursuit which causes the best of ladies so much pain?
Do, my Lady, write: I know your style is so elegant that I, for my part, have many a time burst into tears in reading your charming letters, and I have no doubt Mr.Barry will sacrifice anything rather than hurt your feelings.' And, of course, the abigail swore to the fact.
'Do you think so, Bridget ?' said her Ladyship.

And my mistress forthwith penned me a letter, in her most fascinating and winning manner:--'Why, sir,' wrote she, 'will you pursue me?
why environ me in a web of intrigue so frightful that my spirit sinks under it, seeing escape is hopeless from your frightful, your diabolical art?
They say you are generous to others--be so to me.

I know your bravery but too well: exercise it on men who can meet your sword, not on a poor feeble woman, who cannot resist you.


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