LETTER XLII
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE
An angry dialogue, a scolding-bout rather, has passed between my sisterand me. Did you think I could scold, my dear?
She was sent up to me, upon my refusal to see Mr. Solmes--let looseupon me, I think!--No intention on their parts to conciliate! It seemsevident that I am given up to my brother and her, by general consent.
I will do justice to every thing she said against me, which carried anyforce with it. As I ask for your approbation or disapprobation of myconduct, upon the facts I lay before you, I should think it the sign ofa very bad cause, if I endeavoured to mislead my judge.
She began with representing to me the danger I had been in, had myfather come up, as he would have done had he not been hindered--byMr. Solmes, among the rest. She reflected upon my Norton, as if sheencouraged me in my perverseness. She ridiculed me for my supposedesteem for Mr. Lovelace--was surprised that the witty, the prudent, nay,the dutiful and pi--ous [so she sneeringly pronounced the word] ClarissaHarlowe, should be so strangely fond of a profligate man, that herparents were forced to lock her up, in order to hinder her from runninginto his arms. 'Let me ask you, my dear, said she, how you now keepyour account of the disposition of your time? How many hours in thetwenty-four do you devote to your needle? How many to your prayers?How many to letter-writing? And how many to love?--I doubt, I doubt, mylittle dear, was her arch expression, the latter article is like Aaron'srod, and swallows up the rest!--Tell me; is it not so?'
To these I answered, That it was a double mortification to me to owemy safety from the effects of my father's indignation to a man I couldnever thank for any thing. I vindicated the good Mrs. Norton with awarmth that was due to her merit. With equal warmth I resented herreflections upon me on Mr. Lovelace's account. As to the disposition ofmy time in the twenty-four hours, I told her it would better have becomeher to pity a sister in distress, than to exult over her--especially,when I could too justly attribute to the disposition of some of herwakeful hours no small part of that distress.
She raved extremely at this last hint: but reminded me of the gentletreatment of all my friends, my mother's in particular, before itcame to this. She said, that I had discovered a spirit they never hadexpected: that, if they had thought me such a championess, they wouldhardly have ventured to engage with me: but that now, the short and thelong of it was, that the matter had gone too far to be given up: that itwas become a contention between duty and willfulness; whether a parent'sauthority were to yield to a daughter's obstinacy, or the contrary: thatI must therefore bend or break, that was all, child.
I told her, that I wished the subject were of such a nature, that Icould return her pleasantry with equal lightness of heart: but that, ifMr. Solmes had such merit in every body's eyes, in hers, particularly,why might he not be a brother to me, rather than a husband?
O child, says she, methinks you are as pleasant to the full as I am:I begin to have some hopes of you now. But do you think I will rob mysister of her humble servant? Had he first addressed himself to me,proceeded she, something might have been said: but to take my youngersister's refusal! No, no, child; it is not come to that neither!Besides, that would be to leave the door open in your heart for you knowwho, child; and we would fain bar him out, if possible. In short [andthen she changed both her tone and her looks] had I been as forwardas somebody, to throw myself into the arms of one of the greatestprofligates in England, who had endeavoured to support his claim to methrough the blood of my brother, then might all my family join togetherto save me from such a wretch, and to marry me as fast as they could,to some worthy man, who might opportunely offer himself. And now, Clary,all's out, and make the most of it.
Did not this deserve a severe return? Do, say it did, to justify myreply.--Alas! for my poor sister! said I--The man was not always sogreat a profligate. How true is the observation, That unrequited loveturns to deepest hate!
I thought she would beat me. But I proceeded--I have heard often of mybrother's danger, and my brother's murderer. When so little ceremony ismade with me, why should I not speak out?--Did he not seek to kill theother, if he could have done it? Would my brother have given Lovelacehis life, had it been in his power?--The aggressor should notcomplain.--And, as to opportune offers, would to Heaven some onehad offered opportunely to somebody! It is not my fault, Bella, theopportune gentleman don't come!
Could you, my dear, have shewn more spirit? I expected to feel theweight of her hand. She did come up to me, with it held up: then,speechless with passion, ran half way down the stairs, and came upagain.
When she could speak--God give me patience with you!
Amen, said I: but you see, Bella, how ill you bear the retort youprovoke. Will you forgive me; and let me find a sister in you, as I amsorry, if you had reason to think me unsisterly in what I have said?
Then did she pour upon me, with greater violence; considering mygentleness as a triumph of temper over her. She was resolved, she said,to let every body know how I took the wicked Lovelace's part against mybrother.
I wished, I told her, I could make the plea for myself, which shemight for herself; to wit, that my anger was more inexcusable than myjudgment. But I presumed she had some other view in coming to me, thanshe had hitherto acquainted me with. Let me, said I, but know (afterall that has passed) if you have any thing to propose that I can complywith; any thing that can make my only sister once more my friend?
I had before, upon hearing her ridiculing me on my supposed character ofmeekness, said, that, although I wished to be thought meek, I would notbe abject; although humble not mean: and here, in a sneering way, shecautioned me on that head.
I replied, that her pleasantry was much more agreeable than her anger.But I wished she would let me know the end of a visit that had hitherto(between us) been so unsisterly.
She desired to be informed, in the name of every body, was her word,what I was determined upon? And whether to comply or not?--One word forall: My friends were not to have patience with so perverse a creaturefor ever.
This then I told her I would do: Absolutely break with the man they wereall so determined against: upon condition, however, that neither Mr.Solmes, nor any other, were urged upon me with the force of a command.
And what was this, more than I had offered before? What, but ringingmy changes upon the same bells, and neither receding nor advancing onetittle?
If I knew what other proposals I could make, I told her, that wouldbe acceptable to them all, and free me from the address of a man sodisagreeable to me, I would make them. I had indeed before offered,never to marry without my father's consent--
She interrupted me, That was because I depended upon my whining tricksto bring my father and mother to what I pleased.
A poor dependence! I said:--She knew those who would make thatdependence vain--
And I should have brought them to my own beck, very probably, and myuncle Harlowe too, as also my aunt Hervey, had I not been forbidden fromtheir sight, and thereby hindered from playing my pug's tricks beforethem.
At least, Bella, said I, you have hinted to me to whom I am obliged,that my father and mother, and every body else, treat me thus harshly.But surely you make them all very weak. Indifferent persons, judging ofus two from what you say, would either think me a very artful creature,or you a very spiteful one--
You are indeed a very artful one, for that matter, interrupted she ina passion: one of the artfullest I ever knew! And then followed anaccusation so low! so unsisterly!--That I half-bewitched people by myinsinuating address: that nobody could be valued or respected, but muststand like ciphers wherever I came. How often, said she, have I and mybrother been talking upon a subject, and had every body's attention,till you came in, with your bewitching meek pride, and humblesignificance? And then have we either been stopped by references to MissClary's opinion, forsooth; or been forced to stop ourselves, or musthave talked on unattended to by every body.
She paused. Dear Bella, proceed
!
She indeed seemed only gathering breath.
And so I will, said she--Did you not bewitch my grandfather? Could anything be pleasing to him, that you did not say or do? How did he useto hang, till he slabbered again, poor doting old man! on your silvertongue! Yet what did you say, that we could not have said? What did youdo, that we did not endeavour to do?--And what was all this for? Why,truly, his last will shewed what effect your smooth obligingness hadupon him!--To leave the acquired part of his estate from the next heirs,his own sons, to a grandchild; to his youngest grandchild! A daughtertoo!--To leave the family-pictures from his sons to you, because youcould tiddle about them, and, though you now neglect their examples,could wipe and clean them with your dainty hands! The family-plate too,in such quantities, of two or three generations standing, must not bechanged, because his precious child,* humouring his old fal-lal taste,admired it, to make it all her own.
* Alluding to his words in the preamble to the clauses in his will. See Letter IV.
This was too low to move me: O my poor sister! said I: not to be able,or at least willing, to distinguish between art and nature! If I didoblige, I was happy in it: I looked for no further reward: my mind isabove art, from the dirty motives you mention. I wish with all my heartmy grandfather had not thus distinguished me; he saw my brother likelyto be amply provided for out of the family, as well as in it: he desiredthat you might have the greater share of my father's favour for it;and no doubt but you both have. You know, Bella, that the estate mygrandfather bequeathed me was not half the real estate he left.
What's all that to an estate in possession, and left you with suchdistinctions, as gave you a reputation of greater value than the estateitself?
Hence my misfortune, Bella, in your envy, I doubt!--But have I not givenup that possession in the best manner I could--
Yes, interrupting me, she hated me for that best manner. Specious littlewitch! she called me: your best manner, so full of art and design, hadnever been seen through, if you, with your blandishing ways, have notbeen put out of sight, and reduced to positive declarations!--Hinderedfrom playing your little declarations!--Hindered from playing yourlittle whining tricks! curling, like a serpent about your mamma; andmaking her cry to deny you any thing your little obstinate heart was setupon--!
Obstinate heart, Bella!
Yes, obstinate heart! For did you ever give up any thing? Had you notthe art to make them think all was right you asked, though my brotherand I were frequently refused favours of no greater import!
I know not, Bella, that I ever asked any thing unfit to be granted. Iseldom asked favours for myself, but for others.
I was a reflecting creature for this.
All you speak of, Bella, was a long time ago. I cannot go so far backinto our childish follies. Little did I think of how long standing yourlate-shewn antipathy is.
I was a reflector again! Such a saucy meekness; such a best manner; andsuch venom in words!--O Clary! Clary! Thou wert always a two-faced girl!
Nobody thought I had two faces, when I gave up all into my father'smanagement; taking from his bounty, as before, all my littlepocket-money, without a shilling addition to my stipend, or desiringit--
Yes, cunning creature!--And that was another of your fetches!--For didit not engage my fond father (as no doubt you thought it would) to tellyou, that since you had done so grateful and dutiful a thing, he wouldkeep entire, for your use, all the produce of the estate left you, andbe but your steward in it; and that you should be entitled to the sameallowances as before? Another of your hook-in's, Clary!--So that allyour extravagancies have been supported gratis.
My extravagancies, Bella!--But did my father ever give me any thing hedid not give you?
Yes, indeed; I got more by that means, than I should have had theconscience to ask. But I have still the greater part to shew! But you!What have you to shew?--I dare say, not fifty pieces in the world!
Indeed I have not!
I believe you!--Your mamma Norton, I suppose--But mum for that--!
Unworthy Bella! The good woman, although low in circumstance, is greatin mind! Much greater than those who would impute meanness to a soulincapable of it.
What then have you done with the sums given you from infancy tosquander?--Let me ask you [affecting archness], Has, has, has Lovelace,has your rake, put it out at interest for you?
O that my sister would not make me blush for her! It is, however, out atinterest!--And I hope it will bring me interest upon interest!--Betterthan to lie useless in my cabinet.
She understood me, she said. Were I a man, she should suppose I wasaiming to carry the county--Popularity! A crowd to follow me with theirblessings as I went to and from church, and nobody else to be regarded,were agreeable things. House-top-proclamations! I hid not my light undera bushel, she would say that for me. But was it not a little hard uponme, to be kept from blazing on a Sunday?--And to be hindered from mycharitable ostentations?
This, indeed, Bella, is cruel in you, who have so largely contributed tomy confinement.--But go on. You'll be out of breath by-and-by. I cannotwish to be able to return this usage.--Poor Bella! And I believe Ismiled a little too contemptuously for a sister to a sister.
None of your saucy contempts [rising in her voice]: None of your poorBella's, with that air of superiority in a younger sister!
Well then, rich Bella! courtesying--that will please you better--and itis due likewise to the hoards you boast of.
Look ye, Clary, holding up her hand, if you are not a little more abjectin your meekness, a little more mean in your humility, and treat me withthe respect due to an elder sister--you shall find--
Not that you will treat me worse than you have done, Bella!--That cannotbe; unless you were to let fall your uplifted hand upon me--and thatwould less become you to do, than me to bear.
Good, meek creature:--But you were upon your overtures just now!--Ishall surprise every body by tarrying so long. They will think some goodmay be done with you--and supper will be ready.
A tear would stray down my cheek--How happy have I been, said I,sighing, in the supper-time conversations, with all my dear friends inmy eye round their hospitable board.
I met only with insult for this--Bella has not a feeling heart. Thehighest joy in this life she is not capable of: but then she savesherself many griefs, by her impenetrableness--yet, for ten times thepain that such a sensibility is attended with, would I not part with thepleasure it brings with it.
She asked me, upon my turning from her, if she should not say any thingbelow of my compliances?
You may say, that I will do every thing they would have me do, if theywill free me from Mr. Solmes's address.
This is all you desire at present, creeper on! insinuator! [What wordsshe has!] But will not t'other man flame out, and roar most horribly,upon the snatching from his paws a prey he thought himself sure of?
I must let you talk in your own way, or we shall never come to a point.I shall not matter in his roaring, as you call it. I will promise him,that, if I ever marry any other man, it shall not be till he is married.And if he be not satisfied with such a condescension, I shall think heought: and I will give any assurances, that I will neither correspondwith him, nor see him. Surely this will do.
But I suppose then you will have no objection to see and converse, on acivil footing, with Mr. Solmes--as your father's friend, or so?
No! I must be permitted to retire to my apartment whenever he comes.I would no more converse with the one, than correspond with the other.That would be to make Mr. Lovelace guilty of some rashness, on a belief,that I broke with him, to have Mr. Solmes.
And so, that wicked wretch is to be allowed such a controul over you,that you are not to be civil to your father's friends, at his own house,for fear of incensing him!--When this comes to be represented, be sogood as to tell me, what is it you expect from it!
Every thing, I said, or nothing, as she was pleased to represent it.--Beso good as to give it your interest, B
ella, and say, further, 'ThatI will by any means I can, in the law or otherwise, make over to myfather, to my uncles, or even to my brother, all I am entitled to by mygrandfather's will, as a security for the performance of my promises.And as I shall have no reason to expect any favour from my father, if Ibreak them, I shall not be worth any body's having. And furtherstill, unkindly as my brother has used me, I will go down to Scotlandprivately, as his housekeeper [I now see I may be spared here] if hewill promise to treat me no worse than he would do an hired one.--OrI will go to Florence, to my cousin Morden, if his stay in Italy willadmit of it. In either case, it may be given out, that I am gone to theother; or to the world's end. I care not whither it is said I am gone,or do go.'
Let me ask you, child, if you will give your pretty proposal in writing?
Yes, with all my heart. And I stepped to my closet, and wrote to thepurpose I have mentioned; and moreover, the following lines to mybrother.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
I hope I have made such proposals to my sister as will be accepted. I amsure they will, if you please to give them your sanction. Let me begof you, for God's sake, that you will. I think myself very unhappy inhaving incurred your displeasure. No sister can love a brother betterthan I love you. Pray do not put the worst but the best constructionsupon my proposals, when you have them reported to you. Indeed I mean thebest. I have no subterfuges, no arts, no intentions, but to keep to theletter of them. You shall yourself draw up every thing into writing, asstrong as you can, and I will sign it: and what the law will not do toenforce it, my resolution and my will shall: so that I shall be worthnobody's address, that has not my papa's consent: nor shall any person,nor any consideration, induce me to revoke it. You can do more than anybody to reconcile my parents and uncles to me. Let me owe this desirablefavour to your brotherly interposition, and you will for ever oblige
Your afflicted Sister, CL. HARLOWE.
***
And how do you think Bella employed herself while I was writing?--Why,playing gently upon my harpsichord; and humming to it, to shew herunconcernedness.
When I approached her with what I had written, she arose with an airof levity--Why, love, you have not written already!--You have, Iprotest!--O what a ready penwoman!--And may I read it?
If you please. And let me beseech you, my dear Bella, to back theseproposals with your good offices: and [folding my uplifted hands; tears,I believe, standing in my eyes] I will love you as never sister lovedanother.
Thou art a strange creature, said she; there is no withstanding thee.
She took the proposals and letter; and having read them, burst into anaffected laugh: How wise ones may be taken in!--Then you did not know,that I was jesting with you all this time!--And so you would have mecarry down this pretty piece of nonsense?
Don't let me be surprised at your seeming unsisterliness, Bella. I hopeit is but seeming. There can be no wit in such jesting as this.
The folly of the creature!--How natural is it for people, when they settheir hearts upon any thing, to think every body must see with theireyes!--Pray, dear child, what becomes of your father's authorityhere?--Who stoops here, the parent, or the child?--How does this squarewith engagements actually agreed upon between your father and Mr.Solmes? What security, that your rake will not follow you to the world'send?--Nevertheless, that you may not think that I stand in the way ofa reconciliation on such fine terms as these, I will be your messengerthis once, and hear what my papa will say to it; although beforehand Ican tell you, these proposals will not answer the principal end.
So down she went. But, it seems, my aunt Hervey and my uncle Harlowewere not gone away: and as they have all engaged to act in concert,messengers were dispatched to my uncle and aunt to desire them to bethere to breakfast in the morning.
MONDAY NIGHT, ELEVEN O'CLOCK.
I am afraid I shall not be thought worthy--
Just as I began to fear I should not be thought worthy of an answer,Betty rapped at my door, and said, if I were not in bed, she had aletter for me. I had but just done writing the above dialogue, and steptto the door with the pen in my hand--Always writing, Miss! said thebold wench: it is admirable how you can get away what you write--but thefairies, they say, are always at hand to help lovers.--She retired inso much haste, that, had I been disposed, I could not take the notice ofthis insolence which it deserved.
I enclose my brother's letter. He was resolved to let me see, that Ishould have nothing to expect from his kindness. But surely he willnot be permitted to carry every point. The assembling of my friendsto-morrow is a good sign: and I will hope something from that, and fromproposals so reasonable. And now I will try if any repose will fall tomy lot for the remainder of this night.
TO MISS CLARY HARLOWE [ENCLOSED IN THE PRECEDING.]
Your proposals will be considered by your father and mother, andall your friends, to-morrow morning. What trouble does your shamefulforwardness give us all! I wonder you have the courage to write to me,upon whom you are so continually emptying your whole female quiver. Ihave no patience with you, for reflecting upon me as the aggressor in aquarrel which owed its beginning to my consideration for you.
You have made such confessions in a villain's favour, as ought to causeall your relations to renounce you for ever. For my part, I willnot believe any woman in the world, who promises against her avowedinclination. To put it out of your power to ruin yourself is the onlyway left to prevent your ruin. I did not intend to write; but yourtoo-kind sister has prevailed upon me. As to your going to Scotland,that day of grace is over.--Nor would I advise, that you should go tograndfather-up your cousin Morden. Besides, that worthy gentleman mightbe involved in some fatal dispute, upon your account; and then be calledthe aggressor.
A fine situation you have brought yourself to, to propose to hideyourself from your rake, and to have falsehoods told, to concealyou!--Your confinement, at this rate, is the happiest thing that couldbefal you. Your bravo's behaviour at church, looking out for you, is asufficient indication of his power over you, had you not so shamelesslyacknowledged it.
One word for all--Your parents and uncles may do as they will: but if,for the honour of the family, I cannot carry this point, I will retireto Scotland, and never see the face of any one of it more.
JAMES HARLOWE.
***
There's a brother!--There's flaming duty to a father, and mother, anduncles!--But he sees himself valued, and made of consequence; and hegives himself airs accordingly!--Nevertheless, as I said above, I willhope better things from those who have not the interest my brother hasto keep open these unhappy differences.