LETTER XVIII
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.WEDNESDAY MORN. AUG. 23.
All alive, dear Jack, and in ecstacy!--Likely to be once more a happyman! For I have received a letter from my beloved Miss HARLOWE; inconsequence, I suppose, of that which I mentioned in my last to be leftfor her from her sister. And I am setting out for Berks directly, toshow the contents to my Lord M. and to receive the congratulations of allmy kindred upon it.
I went, last night, as I intended, to Smith's: but the dear creature wasnot returned at near ten o'clock. And, lighting upon Tourville, I tookhim home with me, and made him sing me out of my megrims. I went to bedtolerably easy at two; had bright and pleasant dreams; (not such of afrightful one as that I gave thee an account of;) and at eight thismorning, as I was dressing, to be in readiness against the return of myfellow, whom I had sent to inquire after the lady, I had the followingletter brought to me by a chairman:
TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.TUESDAY NIGHT, 11 O'CLOCK (AUG. 22.)
SIR,
I have good news to tell you. I am setting out with all diligence for myfather's house, I am bid to hope that he will receive his poor penitentwith a goodness peculiar to himself; for I am overjoyed with theassurance of a thorough reconciliation, through the interposition of adear, blessed friend, whom I always loved and honoured. I am so taken upwith my preparation for this joyful and long-wished-for journey, that Icannot spare one moment for any other business, having several matters ofthe last importance to settle first. So, pray, Sir, don't disturb orinterrupt me--I beseech you don't. You may possibly in time see me at myfather's; at least if it be not your own fault.
I will write a letter, which shall be sent you when I am got thither andreceived: till when, I am, &c.
CLARISSA HARLOWE.
***
I dispatched instantly a letter to the dear creature, assuring her, withthe most thankful joy, 'That I would directly set out for Berks, and waitthe issue of the happy reconciliation, and the charming hopes she hadfilled me with. I poured out upon her a thousand blessings. I declaredthat it should be the study of my whole life to merit such transcendentgoodness: and that there was nothing which her father or friends shouldrequire at my hands, that I would not for her sake comply with, in orderto promote and complete so desirable a reconciliation.'
I hurried it away without taking a copy of it; and I have ordered thechariot-and-six to be got ready; and hey for M. Hall! Let me but knowhow Belton does. I hope a letter from thee is on the road. And if thepoor fellow can spare thee, make haste, I command thee, to attend thistruly divine lady. Thou mayest not else see her of months perhaps; atleast, not while she is Miss HARLOWE. And oblige me, if possible, withone letter before she sets out, confirming to me and accounting for thisgenerous change.
But what accounting for it is necessary? The dear creature cannotreceive consolation herself but she must communicate it to others. Hownoble! She would not see me in her adversity; but no sooner does the sunof prosperity begin to shine upon her than she forgives me.
I know to whose mediation all this is owing. It is to Colonel Morden's.She always, as she says, loved and honoured him! And he loved her aboveall his relations.
I shall now be convinced that there is something in dreams. The openingcloud is the reconciliation in view. The bright form, lifting up mycharmer through it to a firmament stuck round with golden cherubims andseraphims, indicates the charming little boys and girls, that will be thefruits of this happy reconciliation. The welcomes, thrice repeated, arethose of her family, now no more to be deemed implacable. Yet are theyfamily, too, that my soul cannot mingle with.
But then what is my tumbling over and over through the floor into afrightful hole, descending as she ascends? Ho! only this! it alludes tomy disrelish to matrimony: Which is a bottomless pit, a gulph, and I knownot what. And I suppose, had I not awoke in such a plaguy fright, I hadbeen soused into some river at the bottom of the hole, and then beencarried (mundified or purified from my past iniquities,) by the samebright form (waiting for me upon the mossy banks,) to my beloved girl;and we should have gone on cherubiming of it and caroling to the end ofthe chapter.
But what are the black sweeping mantles and robes of Lord M. thrown overmy face? And what are those of the ladies? O Jack! I have these too:They indicate nothing in the world but that my Lord will be so good as todie, and leave me all he has. So, rest to thy good-natured soul, honestLord M.
Lady Sarah Sadleir and Lady Betty Lawrance, will also die, and leave meswinging legacies.
Miss Charlotte and her sister--what will become of the?--Oh! they will bein mourning, of course, for their uncle and aunts--that's right!
As to Morden's flashing through the window, and crying, Die, Lovelace,and be d----d, if thou wilt not repair my cousin's wrong! That is only,that he would have sent me a challenge, had I not been disposed to do thelady justice.
All I dislike is this part of the dream: for, even in a dream, I wouldnot be thought to be threatened into any measure, though I liked it everso well.
And so much for my prophetic dream.
Dear charming creature! What a meeting will there be between her and herfather and mother and uncles! What transports, what pleasure, will thishappy, long-wished-for reconciliation give her dutiful heart! And indeednow methinks I am glad she is so dutiful to them; for her duty to herparents is a conviction to me that she will be as dutiful to her husband:since duty upon principle is an uniform thing.
Why pr'ythee, now, Jack, I have not been so much to blame as thouthinkest: for had it not been for me, who have led her into so muchdistress, she could neither have received nor given the joy that will nowoverwhelm them all. So here rises great and durable good out oftemporary evil.
I know they loved her (the pride and glory of their family,) too well tohold out long!
I wish I could have seen Arabella's letter. She has always been so mucheclipsed by her sister, that I dare say she has signified thisreconciliation to her with intermingled phlegm and wormwood; and herinvitation must certainly runs all in the rock-water style.
I shall long to see the promised letter too when she is got to herfather's, which I hope will give an account of the reception she willmeet with.
There is a solemnity, however, I think, in the style of her letter, whichpleases and affects me at the same time. But as it is evident she lovesme still, and hopes soon to see me at her father's, she could not helpbeing a little solemn, and half-ashamed, [dear blushing pretty rogue!] toown her love, after my usage of her.
And then her subscription: Till when, I am, CLARISSA HARLOWE: as much asto say, after that, I shall be, if not to your own fault,CLARISSA LOVELACE!
O my best love! My ever-generous and adorable creature! How much doesthis thy forgiving goodness exalt us both!--Me, for the occasion giventhee! Thee, for turning it so gloriously to thy advantage, and to thehonour of both!
And if, my beloved creature, you will but connive at the imperfections ofyour adorer, and not play the wife with me: if, while the charms ofnovelty have their force with me, I should happen to be drawn aside bythe love of intrigue, and of plots that my soul delights to form andpursue; and if thou wilt not be open-eyed to the follies of my youth, [atransitory state;] every excursion shall serve but the more to endearthee to me, till in time, and in a very little time too, I shall getabove sense; and then, charmed by thy soul-attracting converse; andbrought to despise my former courses; what I now, at distance, consideras a painful duty, will be my joyful choice, and all my delight willcentre in thee!
***
Mowbray is just arrived with thy letters. I therefore close my agreeablesubject, to attend to one which I doubt will be very shocking.
I have engaged the rough varlet to bear me company in the morning toBerks; where I shall file off the rust he has contracted in hisattendance upon the poor fellow.
He tells me that, between the dying Belton and the preaching Belford, heshan't be his own man these t
hree days: and says that thou addest to theunhappy fellow's weakness, instead of giving him courage to help him tobear his destiny.
I am sorry he takes the unavoidable lot so heavily. But he has been longill; and sickness enervates the mind as well as the body; as he himselfvery significantly observed to thee.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 8 Page 19