LETTER LII
MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWETUESDAY, AUG. 29.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
We are at length returned to our own home. I had intended to wait on youin London: but my mother is very ill--Alas! my dear, she is very illindeed--and you are likewise very ill--I see that by your's of the 25th--What shall I do, if I lose two such near, and dear, and tender friends?She was taken ill yesterday at our last stage in our return home--and hasa violent surfeit and fever, and the doctors are doubtful about her.
If she should die, how will all my pertnesses to her fly in my face!--Why, why, did I ever vex her? She says I have been all duty andobedience!--She kindly forgets all my faults, and remembers every thing Ihave been so happy as to oblige her in. And this cuts me to the heart.
I see, I see, my dear, that you are very bad--and I cannot bear it. Do,my beloved Miss Harlowe, if you can be better, do, for my sake, bebetter; and send me word of it. Let the bearer bring me a line. Be sureyou send me a line. If I lose you, my more than sister, and lose mymother, I shall distrust my own conduct, and will not marry. And whyshould I?--Creeping, cringing in courtship!--O my dear, these men are avile race of reptiles in our day, and mere bears in their own. See inLovelace all that is desirable in figure, in birth, and in fortune: butin his heart a devil!--See in Hickman--Indeed, my dear, I cannot tellwhat any body can see in Hickman, to be always preaching in his favour.And is it to be expected that I, who could hardly bear control from amother, should take it from a husband?--from one too, who has neithermore wit, nor more understanding, than myself? yet he to be myinstructor!--So he will, I suppose; but more by the insolence of his willthan by the merit of his counsel. It is in vain to think of it. Icannot be a wife to any man breathing whom I at present know. This I therather mention now, because, on my mother's danger, I know you will befor pressing me the sooner to throw myself into another sort ofprotection, should I be deprived of her. But no more of this subject, orindeed of any other; for I am obliged to attend my mamma, who cannot bearme out of her sight.
***
WEDNESDAY, AUG. 30.
My mother, Heaven be praised! has had a fine night, and is much better.Her fever has yielded to medicine! and now I can write once more withfreedom and ease to you, in hopes that you also are better. If this begranted to my prayers, I shall again be happy, I writhe with still themore alacrity as I have an opportunity given me to touch upon a subjectin which you are nearly concerned.
You must know then, my dear, that your cousin Morden has been here withme. He told me of an interview he had on Monday at Lord M.'s withLovelace; and asked me abundance of questions about you, and about thatvillanous man.
I could have raised a fine flame between them if I would: but, observingthat he is a man of very lively passions, and believing you would bemiserable if any thing should happen to him from a quarrel with a man whois known to have so many advantages at his sword, I made not the worst ofthe subjects we talked of. But, as I could not tell untruths in hisfavour, you must think I said enough to make him curse the wretch.
I don't find, well as they all used to respect Colonel Morden, that hehas influence enough upon them to bring them to any terms ofreconciliation.
What can they mean by it!--But your brother is come home, it seems: so,the honour of the house, the reputation of the family, is all the cry!
The Colonel is exceedingly out of humour with them all. Yet has he nothitherto, it seems, seen your brutal brother.--I told him how ill youwere, and communicated to him some of the contents of your letter. Headmired you, cursed Lovelace, and raved against all your family.--Hedeclared that they were all unworthy of you.
At his earnest request, I permitted him to take some brief notes of suchof the contents of your letter to me as I thought I could read to him;and, particularly, of your melancholy conclusion.*
* See Letter XXXII. of this volume.
He says that none of your friends think you are so ill as you are; norwill believe it. He is sure they all love you; and that dearly too.
If they do, their present hardness of heart will be the subject ofeverlasting remorse to them should you be taken from us--but now it seems[barbarous wretches!] you are to suffer within an inch of your life.
He asked me questions about Mr. Belford: and, when he had heard what Ihad to say of that gentleman, and his disinterested services to you, heraved at some villanous surmises thrown out against you by that officiouspedant, Brand: who, but for his gown, I find, would come off poorly enoughbetween your cousin and Lovelace.
He was so uneasy about you himself, that on Thursday, the 24th, he sentup an honest serious man,* one Alston, a gentleman farmer, to inquire ofyour condition, your visiters, and the like; who brought him word thatyou was very ill, and was put to great straits to support yourself: butas this was told him by the gentlewoman of the house where you lodge,who, it seems, mingled it with some tart, though deserved, reflectionsupon your relations' cruelty, it was not credited by them: and I myselfhope it cannot be true; for surely you could not be so unjust, I willsay, to my friendship, as to suffer any inconveniencies for want ofmoney. I think I could not forgive you, if it were so.
* See Letter XXIII. ibid.
The Colonel (as one of your trustees) is resolved to see you put intopossession of your estate: and, in the mean time, he has actually engagedthem to remit to him for you the produce of it accrued since yourgrandfather's death, (a very considerable sum;) and proposes himself toattend you with it. But, by a hint he dropt, I find you had disappointedsome people's littleness, by not writing to them for money and supplies;since they were determined to distress you, and to put you at defiance.
Like all the rest!--I hope I may say that without offence.
Your cousin imagines that, before a reconciliation takes place, they willinsist that you make such a will, as to that estate, as they shallapprove of: but he declares that he will not go out of England till hehas seen justice done you by every body; and that you shall not beimposed on either by friend or foe--
By relation or foe, should he not have said?--for a friend will notimpose upon a friend.
So, my dear, you are to buy your peace, if some people are to have theirwills!
Your cousin [not I, my dear, though it was always my opinion*] says, thatthe whole family is too rich to be either humble, considerate, orcontented. And as for himself, he has an ample fortune, he says, andthinks of leaving it wholly to you.
* See Vol. I. Letter X.
Had this villain Lovelace consulted his worldly interest only, what afortune would he have had in you, even although your marrying him haddeprived you of a paternal share!
I am obliged to leave off here. But having a good deal still more towrite, and my mother better, I will pursue the subject in another letter,although I send both together. I need not say how much I am, and willever be,
Your affectionate, &c.ANNA HOWE.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 8 Page 53