LETTER XXXV
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE WEDNESDAY, ELEVEN O'CLOCK, APRIL 5.
I must write as I have opportunity; making use of my concealed stores:for my pens and ink (all of each that they could find) are taken fromme; as I shall tell you about more particularly by and by.
About an hour ago, I deposited my long letter to you; as also, in theusual place, a billet to Mr. Lovelace, lest his impatience should puthim upon some rashness; signifying, in four lines, 'That the interviewwas over; and that I hoped my steady refusal of Mr. Solmes woulddiscourage any further applications to me in his favour.'
Although I was unable (through the fatigue I had undergone, and byreason of sitting up all night, to write to you, which made me lielonger than ordinary this morning) to deposit my letter to you sooner,yet I hope you will have it in such good time, as that you will be ableto send me an answer to it this night, or in the morning early; which,if ever so short, will inform me, whether I may depend upon yourmother's indulgence or not. This it behoves me to know as soon aspossible; for they are resolved to hurry me away on Saturday next atfarthest; perhaps to-morrow.
I will now inform you of all that has happened previous to their takingaway my pen and ink, as well as of the manner in which that act ofviolence was committed; and this as briefly as I can.
My aunt, who (as well as Mr. Solmes, and my two uncles) lives here, Ithink, came up to me, and said, she would fain have me hear what Mr.Solmes had to say of Mr. Lovelace--only that I may be apprized ofsome things, that would convince me what a vile man he is, and what awretched husband he must make. I might give them what degree of creditI pleased; and take them with abatement for Mr. Solmes's interestedness,if I thought fit. But it might be of use to me, were it but to questionMr. Lovelace indirectly upon some of them, that related to myself.
I was indifferent, I said, about what he could say of me; and I was sureit could not be to my disadvantage; and as he had no reason to impute tome the forwardness which my unkind friends had so causelessly taxed mewith.
She said, That he gave himself high airs on account of his family; andspoke as despicably of ours as if an alliance with us were beneath him.
I replied, That he was a very unworthy man, if it were true, to speakslightingly of a family, which was as good as his own, 'bating thatit was not allied to the peerage: that the dignity itself, I thought,conveyed more shame than honour to descendants, who had not merit toadorn, as well as to be adorned by it: that my brother's absurd pride,indeed, which made him every where declare, he would never marry but toquality, gave a disgraceful preference against ours: but that were Ito be assured, that Mr. Lovelace was capable of so mean a pride as toinsult us or value himself on such an accidental advantage, I shouldthink as despicably of his sense, as every body else did of his morals.
She insisted upon it, that he had taken such liberties, it would be butcommon justice (so much hated as he was by all our family, and somuch inveighed against in all companies by them) to inquire into theprovocation he had to say what was imputed to him; and whether the valuesome of my friends put upon the riches they possess (throwing perhapscontempt upon every other advantage, and even discrediting their ownpretensions to family, in order to depreciate his) might not provoke himto like contempts. Upon the whole, Madam, said I, can you say, that theinveteracy lies not as much on our side, as on his? Can he say any thingof us more disrespectful than we say of him?--And as to the suggestion,so often repeated, that he will make a bad husband, Is it possible forhim to use a wife worse than I am used; particularly by my brother andsister?
Ah, Niece! Ah, my dear! how firmly has this wicked man attached you!
Perhaps not, Madam. But really great care should be taken by fathers andmothers, when they would have their daughters of their minds in theseparticulars, not to say things that shall necessitate the child, inhonour and generosity, to take part with the man her friends are averseto. But, waving all this, as I have offered to renounce him for ever, Isee now why he should be mentioned to me, nor why I should be wished tohear any thing about him.
Well, but still, my dear, there can be no harm to let Mr. Solmes tellyou what Mr. Lovelace has said of you. Severely as you have treated Mr.Solmes, he is fond of attending you once more: he begs to be heard onthis head.
If it be proper for me to hear it, Madam--
It is, eagerly interrupted she, very proper.
Has what he has said of me, Madam, convinced you of Mr. Lovelace'sbaseness?
It has, my dear: and that you ought to abhor him for it.
Then, dear Madam, be pleased to let me hear it from your mouth: thereis no need that I should see Mr. Solmes, when it will have double theweight from you. What, Madam, has the man dared to say of me?
My aunt was quite at a loss.
At last, Well, said she, I see how you are attached. I am sorry for it,Miss. For I do assure you, it will signify nothing. You must be Mrs.Solmes; and that in a very few days.
If consent of heart, and assent of voice, be necessary to a marriage, Iam sure I never can, nor ever will, be married to Mr. Solmes. And whatwill any of my relations be answerable for, if they force my hand intohis, and hold it there till the service be read; I perhaps insensible,and in fits, all the time!
What a romantic picture of a forced marriage have you drawn, Niece!Some people would say, you have given a fine description of your ownobstinacy, child.
My brother and sister would: but you, Madam, distinguish, I am sure,between obstinacy and aversion.
Supposed aversion may owe its rise to real obstinacy, my dear.
I know my own heart, Madam. I wish you did.
Well, but see Mr. Solmes once more, Niece. It will oblige and make foryou more than you imagine.
What should I see him for, Madam?--Is the man fond of hearing me declaremy aversion to him?--Is he desirous of having me more and more incensemy friends against myself?--O my cunning, my ambitious brother!
Ah, my dear! with a look of pity, as if she understood the meaning of myexclamation--But must that necessarily be the case?
It must, Madam, if they will take offence at me for declaring mysteadfast detestation of Mr. Solmes, as a husband.
Mr. Solmes is to be pitied, said she. He adores you. He longs to seeyou once more. He loves you the better for your cruel usage of himyesterday. He is in raptures about you.
Ugly creature, thought I!--He in raptures!
What a cruel wretch must he be, said I, who can enjoy the distress towhich he so largely contributes!--But I see, I see, Madam, that I amconsidered as an animal to be baited, to make sport for my brotherand sister, and Mr. Solmes. They are all, all of them, wanton in theircruelty.--I, Madam, see the man! the man so incapable of pity!--Indeed Iwill not see him, if I can help it--indeed I will not.
What a construction does your lively wit put upon the admirationMr. Solmes expresses of you!--Passionate as you were yesterday, andcontemptuously as you treated him, he dotes upon you for the veryseverity by which he suffers. He is not so ungenerous a man as you thinkhim: nor has he an unfeeling heart.--Let me prevail upon you, my dear,(as your father and mother expect it of you,) to see him once more, andhear what he has to say to you.
How can I consent to see him again, when yesterday's interviewwas interpreted by you, Madam, as well as by every other, as anencouragement to him? when I myself declared, that if I saw him a secondtime by my own consent, it might be so taken? and when I am determinednever to encourage him?
You might spare your reflections upon me, Miss. I have no thanks eitherfrom one side or the other.
And away she flung.
Dearest Madam! said I, following her to the door--
But she would not hear me further; and her sudden breaking from meoccasioned a hurry to some mean listener; as the slipping of a foot fromthe landing-place on the stairs discovered to me.
I had scarcely recovered myself from this attack, when up cameBetty--Miss, said she, your company is desired below-stairs in your ownparl
our.
By whom, Betty?
How can I tell, Miss?--perhaps by your sister, perhaps by yourbrother--I know they wont' come up stairs to your apartment again.
Is Mr. Solmes gone, Betty?
I believe he is, Miss--Would you have him sent for back? said the boldcreature.
Down I went: and to whom should I be sent for, but to my brother and Mr.Solmes! the latter standing sneaking behind the door, so that I saw himnot, till I was mockingly led by the hand into the room by my brother.And then I started as if I had beheld a ghost.
You are to sit down, Clary.
And what then, Brother?
Why then, you are to put off that scornful look, and hear what Mr.Solmes has to say to you.
Sent down for to be baited again, thought I!
Madam, said Mr. Solmes, as if in haste to speak, lest he should not havean opportunity given him, [and indeed he judged right,] Mr. Lovelace isa declared marriage hater, and has a design upon your honour, if ever--
Base accuser! said I, in a passion, snatching my hand from my brother,who was insolently motioning to give it to Mr. Solmes; he has not!--hedares not!--But you have, if endeavouring to force a free mind be todishonour it!
O thou violent creature! said my brother--but not gone yet--for I wasrushing away.
What mean you, Sir, [struggling vehemently to get away,] to detain methus against my will?
You shall not go, Violence; clasping his unbrotherly arms about me.
Then let not Mr. Solmes stay.--Why hold you me thus? he shall not foryour own sake, if I can help it, see how barbarously a brother can treata sister who deserves not evil treatment.
And I struggled so vehemently to get from him, that he was forced toquit my hand; which he did with these words--Begone then, Fury!--howstrong is will!--there is no holding her.
And up I flew to my chamber, and locked myself in, trembling and out ofbreath.
In less than a quarter of an hour, up came Betty. I let her in upon hertapping, and asking (half out of breath too) for admittance.
The Lord have mercy upon us! said she.--What a confusion of a house isthis! [hurrying up and down, fanning herself with her handkerchief,]Such angry masters and mistresses!--such an obstinate young lady!--sucha humble lover!--such enraged uncles!--such--O dear!--dear! what atopsy-turvy house is this!--And all for what, trow?--only because ayoung lady may be happy, and will not?--only because a young lady willhave a husband, and will not have a husband? What hurlyburlies are here,where all used to be peace and quietness!
Thus she ran on to herself; while I sat as patiently as I could (beingassured that her errand was not designed to be a welcome one to me) toobserve when her soliloquy would end.
At last, turning to me--I must do as I am bid. I can't help it--don'tbe angry with me, Miss. But I must carry down your pen and ink: and thatthis moment.
By whose order?
By your papa's and mamma's.
How shall I know that?
She offered to go to my closet: I stept in before her: touch it, if youdare.
Up came my cousin Dolly--Madam!--Madam! said the poor weeping,good natured creature, in broken sentences--you must--indeed youmust--deliver to Betty--or to me--your pen and ink.
Must I, my sweet Cousin? then I will to you; but not to this bold body.And so I gave my standish to her.
I am sorry, very sorry, said she, Miss, to be the messenger: but yourpapa will not have you in the same house with him: he is resolved youshall be carried away to-morrow, or Saturday at farthest. And thereforeyour pen and ink are taken away, that you may give nobody notice of it.
And away went the dear girl, very sorrowful, carrying down with her mystandish, and all its furniture, and a little parcel of pens beside,which having been seen when the great search was made, she was bid toask for.
As it happened, I had not diminished it, having hid half a dozen crowquills in as many different places. It was lucky; for I doubt not theyhad numbered how many were in the parcel.
Betty ran on, telling me, that my mother was now as much incensedagainst me as any body--that my doom was fixed--that my violentbehaviour had not left one to plead for me--that Mr. Solmes bit his lip,and muttered, and seemed to have more in his head, than could come outat his mouth; that was her phrase.
And yet she also hinted to me, that the cruel wretch took pleasurein seeing me; although so much to my disgust--and so wanted to see meagain.--Must he not be a savage, my dear?
The wench went on--that my uncle Harlowe said, That now he gave meup--that he pitied Mr. Solmes--yet hoped he would not think of thisto my detriment hereafter: that my uncle Antony was of opinion, thatI ought to smart for it: and, for her part--and then, as one of thefamily, she gave her opinion of the same side.
As I have no other way of hearing any thing that is said or intendedbelow, I bear sometimes more patiently than I otherwise should do withher impertinence. And indeed she seems to be in all my brother's andsister's counsels.
Miss Hervey came up again, and demanded an half-pint ink-bottle whichthey had seen in my closet.
I gave it her without hesitation.
If they have no suspicion of my being able to write, they will perhapslet me stay longer than otherwise they would.
This, my dear, is now my situation.
All my dependence, all my hopes, are in your mother's favour. But forthat, I know not what I might do: For who can tell what will come next?
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 2 Page 37