LETTER XXVI
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE THURSDAY MORN., MARCH 9.
I have another letter from Mr. Lovelace, although I had not answered hisformer.
This man, somehow or other, knows every thing that passes in our family.My confinement; Hanna's dismission; and more of the resentments andresolutions of my father, uncles, and brother, than I can possibly know,and almost as soon as the things happen, which he tells me of. He cannotcome at these intelligencies fairly.
He is excessively uneasy upon what he hears; and his expressions, bothof love to me, and resentment to them, are very fervent. He solicits me,'To engage my honour to him never to have Mr. Solmes.'
I think I may fairly promise him that I will not.
He begs, 'That I will not think he is endeavouring to make to himselfa merit at any man's expense, since he hopes to obtain my favour on thefoot of his own; nor that he seeks to intimidate me into a considerationfor him. But declares, that the treatment he meets with from my familyis of such a nature, that he is perpetually reproached for not resentingit; and that as well by Lord M. and Lady Sarah, and Lady Betty, as byall his other friends: and if he must have no hope from me, he cannotanswer for what his despair will make him do.'
Indeed, he says, 'his relations, the ladies particularly, advise him tohave recourse to a legal remedy: But how, he asks, can a man of honourgo to law for verbal abuses given by people entitled to wear swords?'
You see, my dear, that my mother seems as apprehensive of mischief asmyself; and has indirectly offered to let Shorey carry my answer to theletter he sent me before.
He is full of the favours of the ladies of his family to me: to whom,nevertheless, I am personally a stranger; except, that I once saw MissPatty Montague at Mrs. Knolly's.
It is natural, I believe, for a person to be the more desirous of makingnew friends, in proportion as she loses the favour of old ones. Yet hadI rather appear amiable in the eyes of my own relations, and in youreyes, than in those of all the world besides--but these four ladies ofhis family have such excellent characters, that one cannot but wish tobe thought well of by them. Cannot there be a way to find out, by Mrs.Fortescue's means, or by Mr. Hickman, who has some knowledge of Lord M.[covertly, however,] what their opinions are of the present situation ofthings in our family; and of the little likelihood there is, that everthe alliance once approved of by them, can take effect?
I cannot, for my own part, think so well of myself, as to imagine, thatthey can wish their kinsman to persevere in his views with regard to me,through such contempts and discouragements.--Not that it would concernme, should they advise him to the contrary. By my Lord's signing Mr.Lovelace's former letter; by Mr. Lovelace's assurances of the continuedfavour of all his relations; and by the report of others; I seem stillto stand high in their favour. But, methinks, I should be glad to havethis confirmed to me, as from themselves, by the lips of an indifferentperson; and the rather, because of their fortunes and family; and takeit amiss (as they have reason) to be included by ours in the contemptthrown upon their kinsman.
Curiosity at present is all my motive: nor will there ever, I hope, be astronger, notwithstanding your questionable throbs--even were the meritsof Mr. Lovelace much greater than they are.
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I have answered his letters. If he takes me at my word, I shall need tobe less solicitous for the opinions of his relations in my favour: andyet one would be glad to be well thought of by the worthy.
This is the substance of my letter:
'I express my surprise at his knowing (and so early) all that passeshere.'
I assure him, 'That were there not such a man in the world as himself, Iwould not have Mr. Solmes.'
I tell him, 'That to return, as I understand he does, defiances fordefiances, to my relations, is far from being a proof with me, either ofhis politeness, or of the consideration he pretends to have for me.
'That the moment I hear he visits any of my friends without theirconsent, I will make a resolution never to see him more, if I can helpit.'
I apprize him, 'That I am connived at in sending this letter (althoughno one has seen the contents) provided it shall be the last I will everwrite to him: that I had more than once told him, that the single lifewas my choice; and this before Mr. Solmes was introduced as a visitorin our family: that Mr. Wyerley, and other gentlemen, knew it to be mychoice, before himself was acquainted with any of us: that I had neverbeen induced to receive a line from him on the subject, but that Ithought he had not acted ungenerously by my brother; and yet had notbeen so handsomely treated by my friends, as he might have expected:but that had he even my friends on his side, I should have very greatobjections to him, were I to get over my choice of a single life, soreally preferable to me as it is; and that I should have declared asmuch to him, had I not regarded him as more than a common visiter. Onall these accounts, I desire, that the one more letter, which I willallow him to deposit in the usual place, may be the very last; and thatonly, to acquaint me with his acquiescence that it shall be so; at leasttill happier times.'
This last I put in that he may not be quite desperate. But, if he takeme at my word, I shall be rid of one of my tormentors.
I have promised to lay before you all his letters, and my answers: Irepeat that promise: and am the less solicitous, for that reason, toamplify upon the contents of either. But I cannot too often express myvexation, to be driven to such streights and difficulties, here athome, as oblige me to answer letters, (from a man I had not absolutelyintended to encourage, and to whom I had really great objections,)filled as his are with such warm protestations, and written to me with aspirit of expectation.
For, my dear, you never knew so bold a supposer. As commentators findbeauties in an author, to which the author perhaps was a stranger; so hesometimes compliments me in high strains of gratitude for favours, andfor a consideration, which I never designed him; insomuch that I amfrequently under a necessity of explaining away the attributed goodnessto him, which, if I shewed, I should have the less opinion of myself.
In short, my dear, like a restiff horse, (as I have heard described bysportsmen,) he pains one's hands, and half disjoints one's arms, to reinhim in. And, when you see his letters, you must form no judgment uponthem, till you have read my answers. If you do, you will indeed thinkyou have cause to attribute self-deceit, and throbs, and glows, to yourfriend: and yet, at other times, the contradictory nature complains,that I shew him as little favour, and my friends as much inveteracy,as if, in the rencontre betwixt my brother and him, he had been theaggressor; and as if the catastrophe had been as fatal, as it might havebeen.
If he has a design by this conduct (sometimes complaining of my shyness,at others exalting in my imaginary favours) to induce me at one time toacquiesce with his compliments; at another to be more complaisantfor his complaints; and if the contradiction be not the effect of hisinattention and giddiness; I shall think him as deep and as artful (tooprobably, as practised) a creature, as ever lived; and were I to be sureof it, should hate him, if possible, worse than I do Solmes.
But enough for the present of a creature so very various.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 1 Page 32