LETTER XXXVI
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE WEDNESDAY, FOUR O'CLOCK IN THEAFTERNOON
I am just returned from depositing the letter I so lately finished, andsuch of Mr. Lovelace's letters as I had not sent you. My long letter Ifound remaining there--so you will have both together.
I am convinced, methinks, it is not with you.--But your servant cannotalways be at leisure. However, I will deposit as fast as I write. I mustkeep nothing by me now; and when I write, lock myself in, that I may notbe surprised now they think I have no pen and ink.
I found in the usual place another letter from this diligent man: and,by its contents, a confirmation that nothing passes in this house buthe knows it; and that almost as soon as it passes. For this lettermust have been written before he could have received my billet; anddeposited, I suppose, when that was taken away; yet he compliments me init upon asserting myself (as he calls it) on that occasion to my uncleand to Mr. Solmes.
'He assures me, however, that they are more and more determined tosubdue me.
'He sends me the compliments of his family; and acquaints me with theirearnest desire to see me amongst them. Most vehemently does he press formy quitting this house, while it is in my power to get away: and againcraves leave to order his uncle's chariot-and-six to attend my commandsat the stile leading to the coppice adjoining to the paddock.
'Settlements to my own will he again offers. Lord M. and Lady Sarah andLady Betty to be guarantees of his honour and justice. But, if I choosenot to go to either of those ladies, nor yet to make him the happiest ofmen so soon as it is nevertheless his hope that I will, he urges me towithdraw to my own house, and to accept of Lord M. for my guardian andprotector till my cousin Morden arrives. He can contrive, he says,to give me easy possession of it, and will fill it with his femalerelations on the first invitation from me; and Mrs. Norton, or MissHowe, may be undoubtedly prevailed upon to be with me for a time. Therecan be no pretence for litigation, he says, when I am once in it. Nor,if I choose to have it so, will he appear to visit me; nor presume tomention marriage to me till all is quiet and easy; till every method Ishall prescribe for a reconciliation with my friends is tried; till mycousin comes; till such settlements are drawn as he shall approve of forme; and that I have unexceptionable proofs of his own good behaviour.'
As to the disgrace a person of my character may be apprehensive of uponquitting my father's house, he observes (too truly I doubt) 'That thetreatment I meet with is in every one's mouth: yet, he says, that thepublic voice is in my favour. My friends themselves, he says, expectthat I will do myself what he calls, this justice: why else do theyconfine me? He urges, that, thus treated, the independence I have aright to will be my sufficient excuse, going but from their house to myown, if I choose that measure; or in order to take possession of myown, if I do not: that all the disgrace I can receive, they have alreadygiven me: that his concern and his family's concern in my honour, willbe equal to my own, if he may be so happy ever to call me his: and hepresumes, he says, to aver, that no family can better supply the lossof my own friends to me than his, in whatever way I shall do them thehonour to accept of his and their protection.
'But he repeats, that, in all events, he will oppose my being carried tomy uncle's; being well assured, that I shall be lost to him for ever, ifonce I enter into that house.' He tells me, 'That my brother and sister,and Mr. Solmes, design to be there to receive me: that my father andmother will not come near me till the ceremony is actually over: andthat then they will appear, in order to try to reconcile me to my odioushusband, by urging upon me the obligations I shall be supposed to beunder from a double duty.'
How, my dear, am I driven on one side, and invited on the other!--Thislast intimation is but a too probable one. All the steps they take seemto tend to this! And, indeed, they have declared almost as much.
He owns, 'That he has already taken his measures upon thisintelligence:--but that he is so desirous for my sake (I must suppose,he says, that he owes them no forbearance for their own) to avoid comingto extremities, that he has suffered a person, whom they do not suspect,to acquaint them with his resolutions, as if come at by accident, ifthey persist in their design to carry me by violence to my uncle's;in hopes, that they may be induced from the fear of mischief whichmay ensue, to change their measures: and yet he is aware, that he hasexposed himself to the greatest risques by having caused this intimationto be given them; since, if he cannot benefit himself by their fears,there is no doubt but they will doubly guard themselves against him uponit.'
What a dangerous enterpriser, however, is this man!
'He begs a few lines from me by way of answer to this letter, eitherthis evening, or to-morrow morning. If he be not so favoured, he shallconclude, from what he knows of the fixed determination of my relations,that I shall be under a closer restraint than before: and he shall beobliged to take his measures according to that presumption.'
You will see by this abstract, as well by his letter preceding this,(for both run in the same strain,) how strangely forward the difficultyof my situation has brought him in his declarations and proposals; andin his threatenings too: which, but for that, I would not take from him.
Something, however, I must speedily resolve upon, or it will be out ofmy power to help myself.
Now I think of it, I will enclose his letter, (so might have spared theabstract of it,) that you may the better judge of all his proposals, andintelligence; and les it should fall into other hands. I cannot forgivethe contents, although I am at a loss what answer to return.*
* She accordingly encloses Mr. Lovelace's letter. But as the most material contents of it are given in her abstract, it is omitted.
I cannot bear the thoughts of throwing myself upon the protection of hisfriends:--but I will not examine his proposals closely till I hear fromyou. Indeed, I have no eligible hope, but in your mother's goodness Hersis a protection I could more reputably fly to, than to that of any otherperson: and from hers should be ready to return to my father's (for thebreach then would not be irreparable, as it would be, if I fled tohis family): to return, I repeat, on such terms as shall secure but mynegative; not my independence: I do not aim at that (so shall lay yourmother under the less difficulty); though I have a right to be putinto possession of my grandfather's estate, if I were to insist uponit:--such a right, I mean, as my brother exerts in the bid, that Ishould ever think myself freed from my father's reasonable controul,whatever right my grandfather's will has given me! He, good gentleman,left me that estate, as a reward of my duty, and not to set me aboveit, as has been justly hinted to me: and this reflection makes me morefearful of not answering the intention of so valuable a bequest.--Oh!that my friends knew but my heart!--Would but think of it as they usedto do!--For once more, I say, If it deceive me not, it is not altered,although theirs are!
Would but your mother permit you to send her chariot, or chaise, to thebye-place where Mr. Lovelace proposes Lord M.'s shall come, (provoked,intimidated, and apprehensive, as I am,) I would not hesitate a momentwhat to do. Place me any where, as I have said before--in a cot, in agarret; any where--disguised as a servant--or let me pass as a servant'ssister--so that I may but escape Mr. Solmes on one hand, and thedisgrace of refuging with the family of a man at enmity with my own,on the other; and I shall be in some measure happy!--Should yourgood mother refuse me, what refuge, or whose, can I fly to?--Dearestcreature, advise your distressed friend.
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I broke off here--I was so excessively uneasy, that I durst not trustmyself with my own reflections. I therefore went down to the garden, totry to calm my mind, by shifting the scene. I took but one turn upon thefilbert-walk, when Betty came to me. Here, Miss, is your papa--hereis your uncle Antony--here is my young master--and my young mistress,coming to take a walk in the garden; and your papa sends me to see whereyou are, for fear he should meet you.
I struck into an oblique path, and got behind the yew-hedge, seeing mysister appear; and there conce
aled myself till they were gone past me.
My mother, it seems is not well. My poor mother keeps herchamber--should she be worse, I should have an additional unhappiness,in apprehension that my reputed undutifulness had touched her heart.
You cannot imagine what my emotions were behind the yew-hedge, on seeingmy father so near me. I was glad to look at him through the hedge as hepassed by: but I trembled in every joint, when I heard him utter thesewords: Son James, to you, and to you Bella, and to you, Brother, do Iwholly commit this matter. That I was meant, I cannot doubt. And yet,why was I so affected; since I may be said to have been given up to thecruelty of my brother and sister for many days past?
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While my father remained in the garden, I sent my dutiful complimentsto my mother, with inquiry after her health, by Shorey, whom I metaccidentally upon the stairs; for none of the servants, except mygaoleress, dare to throw themselves in my way. I had the mortificationof such a return, as made me repent my message, though not my concernfor her health. 'Let her not inquire after the disorders she occasions,'was her harsh answer. 'I will not receive any compliments from her.'
Very, very hard, my dear! Indeed it is very hard.
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Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 2 Page 38