LETTER XLVI
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE SUNDAY MORNING, APRIL 9.
Nobody it seems will go to church this day. No blessing to be expectedperhaps upon views so worldly, and in some so cruel.
They have a mistrust that I have some device in my head. Betty has beenlooking among my clothes. I found her, on coming up from depositing myletter to Lovelace (for I have written!) peering among them; for I hadleft the key in the lock. She coloured, and was confounded to be caught.But I only said, I should be accustomed to any sort of treatment intime. If she had her orders--those were enough for her.
She owned, in her confusion, that a motion had been made to abridgeme of my airings; and the report she should make, would be of nodisadvantage to me. One of my friends, she told me, urged in my behalf,That there was no need of laying me under greater restraint, since Mr.Lovelace's threatening to rescue me by violence, were I to have beencarried to my uncle's, was a conviction that I had no design to go tohim voluntarily; and that if I had, I should have made preparationsof that kind before now; and, most probably, had been detected inthem.--Hence, it was also inferred, that there was no room to doubt,but I would at last comply. And, added the bold creature, if you don'tintend to do so, your conduct, Miss, seems strange to me.--Only thusshe reconciled it, that I had gone so far, I knew not how to come offgenteelly: and she fancied I should, in full congregation, on Wednesday,give Mr. Solmes my hand. And then said the confident wench, as thelearned Dr. Brand took his text last Sunday, There will be joy inheaven--
This is the substance of my letter to Mr. Lovelace:
'That I have reasons of the greatest consequence to myself (and which,when known, must satisfy him) to suspend, for the present, my intentionof leaving my father's house: that I have hopes that matters may bebrought to an happy conclusion, without taking a step, which nothingbut the last necessity could justify: and that he may depend upon mypromise, that I will die rather than consent to marry Mr. Solmes.'
And so, I am preparing myself to stand the shock of his exclamatoryreply. But be that what it will, it cannot affect me so much, as theapprehensions of what may happen to me next Tuesday or Wednesday; fornow those apprehensions engage my whole attention, and make me sick atthe very heart.
SUNDAY, FOUR IN THE AFTERNOON.
My letter is not yet taken away--If he should not send for it, or takeit, or come hither on my not meeting him to-morrow, in doubt of whatmay have befallen me, what shall I do! Why had I any concerns with thissex!--I, that was so happy till I knew this man!
I dined in the ivy summer-house. My request to do so, was complied withat the first word. To shew I meant nothing, I went again into the housewith Betty, as soon as I had dined. I thought it was not amiss to askthis liberty; the weather seemed to be set in fine. Who knows whatTuesday or Wednesday may produce?
SUNDAY EVENING, SEVEN O'CLOCK.
There remains my letter still!--He is busied, I suppose, in hispreparations for to-morrow. But then he has servants. Does the man thinkhe is so secure of me, that having appointed, he need not give himselfany further concern about me till the very moment? He knows how I ambeset. He knows not what may happen. I may be ill, or still more closelywatched or confined than before. The correspondence might be discovered.It might be necessary to vary the scheme. I might be forced intomeasures, which might entirely frustrate my purpose. I might have newdoubts. I might suggest something more convenient, for any thing heknew. What can the man mean, I wonder!--Yet it shall lie; for if he hasit any time before the appointed hour, it will save me declaring to himpersonally my changed purpose, and the trouble of contending with him onthat score. If he send for it at all, he will see by the date, that hemight have had it in time; and if he be put to any inconvenience fromshortness of notice, let him take it for his pains.
SUNDAY NIGHT, NINE O'CLOCK.
It is determined, it seems, to send for Mrs. Norton to be here onTuesday to dinner; and she is to stay with me for a whole week.
So she is first to endeavour to persuade me to comply; and, when theviolence is done, she is to comfort me, and try to reconcile me tomy fate. They expect fits and fetches, Betty insolently tells me, andexpostulations, and exclamations, without number: but every body willbe prepared for them: and when it's over, it's over; and I shall be easyand pacified when I find I can't help it.
MONDAY MORN. APRIL 10, SEVEN O'CLOCK.
O my dear! there yet lies the letter, just as I left it!
Does he think he is so sure of me?--Perhaps he imagines that I dare notalter my purpose. I wish I had never known him! I begin now to see thisrashness in the light every one else would have seen it in, had I beenguilty of it. But what can I do, if he come to-day at the appointedtime! If he receive not the letter, I must see him, or he will thinksomething has befallen me; and certainly will come to the house. Ascertainly he will be insulted. And what, in that case, may be theconsequence! Then I as good as promised that I would take the firstopportunity to see him, if I change my mind, and to give him my reasonsfor it. I have no doubt but he will be out of humour upon it: butbetter, if we meet, that he should go away dissatisfied with me, thanthat I should go away dissatisfied with myself.
Yet, short as the time is, he may still perhaps send, and get theletter. Something may have happened to prevent him, which when knownwill excuse him.
After I have disappointed him more than once before, on a requestedinterview only, it is impossible he should not have a curiosity atleast, to know if something has not happened; and whether my mind holdor not in this more important case. And yet, as I rashly confirmed myresolution by a second letter, I begin now to doubt it.
NINE O'CLOCK.
My cousin Dolly Hervey slid the enclosed letter into my hand, as Ipassed by her, coming out of the garden.
DEAREST MADAM,
I have got intelligence from one who pretends to know every thing,that you must be married on Wednesday morning to Mr. Solmes. Perhaps,however, she says this only to vex me; for it is that saucy creatureBetty Barnes. A license is got, as she says: and so far she went as totell me (bidding me say nothing, but she knew I would) that Mr. Brand isto marry you. For Dr. Lewen I hear, refuses, unless your consent canbe obtained; and they have heard that he does not approve of theirproceedings against you. Mr. Brand, I am told, is to have his fortunemade by uncle Harlowe and among them.
You will know better than I what to make of all these matters; forsometimes I think Betty tells me things as if I should not tell you,and yet expects that I will.* For there is great whispering between MissHarlowe and her; and I have observed that when their whispering is over,Betty comes and tells me something by way of secret. She and all theworld know how much I love you: and so I would have them. It is anhonour to me to love a young lady who is and ever was an honour to allher family, let them say what they will.
* It is easy for such of the readers as have been attentive to Mr. Lovelace's manner of working, to suppose, from this hint of Miss Hervey's, that he had instructed his double- faced agent to put his sweet-heart Betty upon alarming Miss Hervey, in hopes she would alarm her beloved cousin, (as we see she does,) in order to keep her steady to her appointment with him.
But from a more certain authority than Betty's I can assure you (but Imust beg of you to burn this letter) that you are to be searchedonce more for letters, and for pen and ink; for they know you write.Something they pretend to have come at from one of Mr. Lovelace'sservants, which they hope to make something of. I know not for certainwhat it is. He must be a very vile and wicked man who would boast of alady's favour to him, and reveal secrets. But Mr. Lovelace, I dare say,is too much of a gentleman to be guilty of such ingratitude.
Then they have a notion, from that false Betty I believe, that youintend to take something to make yourself sick; and so they will searchfor phials and powders and such like.
If nothing shall be found that will increase their suspicions, you areto be used more kindly by your papa when you appear
before them all,than he of late has used you.
Yet, sick or well, alas! my dear cousin! you must be married. But yourhusband is to go home every night without you, till you are reconciledto him. And so illness can be no pretence to save you.
They are sure you will make a good wife. So would not I, unless I likedmy husband. And Mr. Solmes is always telling them how he will purchaseyour love by rich presents.--A syncophant man!--I wish he and BettyBarnes were to come together; and he would beat her every day.
After what I told you, I need not advise you to secure every thing youwould not have seen.
Once more let me beg that you will burn this letter; and, pray, dearestMadam, do not take any thing that may prejudice your health: for thatwill not do. I am
Your truly loving cousin, D.H.
*****
When I first read my cousin's letter, I was half inclined to resume myformer intention; especially as my countermanding letter was not takenaway; and as my heart ached at the thoughts of the conflict I mustexpect to have with him on my refusal. For see him for a few moments Idoubt I must, lest he should take some rash resolutions; especially ashe has reason to expect I will see him. But here your words, that allpunctilio is at an end the moment I am out of my father's house,added to the still more cogent considerations of duty and reputation,determined me once more against the rash step. And it will be very hard(although no seasonable fainting, or wished-for fit, should stand myfriend) if I cannot gain one month, or fortnight, or week. And I havestill more hopes that I shall prevail for some delay, from my cousin'sintimation that the good Dr. Lewen refuses to give his assistance totheir projects, if they have not my consent, and thinks me cruelly used:since, without taking notice that I am apprized of this, I can pleada scruple of conscience, and insist upon having that worthy divine'sopinion upon it: in which, enforced as I shall enforce it, my motherwill surely second me: my aunt Hervey, and Mrs. Norton, will supporther: the suspension must follow: and I can but get away afterwards.
But, if they will compel me: if they will give me no time: if nobodywill be moved: if it be resolved that the ceremony should be read overmy constrained hand--why then--Alas! What then!--I can but--But what? Omy dear! this Solmes shall never have my vows I am resolved! and I willsay nothing but no, as long as I shall be able to speak. And who willpresume to look upon such an act of violence as a marriage?--It isimpossible, surely, that a father and mother can see such a dreadfulcompulsion offered to their child--but if mine should withdraw, andleave the task to my brother and sister, they will have no mercy.
I am grieved to be driven to have recourse to the following artifices.
I have given them a clue, by the feather of a pen sticking out, wherethey will find such of my hidden stories, as I intend they shall find.
Two or three little essays I have left easy to be seen, of my ownwriting.
About a dozen lines also of a letter begun to you, in which I expressmy hopes, (although I say that appearances are against me,) and thatmy friends will relent. They know from your mother, by my uncle Antony,that, some how or other, I now and then get a letter to you. In thispiece of a letter I declare renewedly my firm resolution to give up theman so obnoxious to my family, on their releasing me from the address ofthe other.
Near the essays, I have left the copy of my letter to Lady Drayton;*which affording arguments suitable to my case, may chance (thusaccidentally to be fallen upon) to incline them to favour me.
* See Letters XIII. and XIV.
I have reserves of pens and ink, you may believe; and one or two in theivy summer-house; with which I shall amuse myself, in order to lighten,if possible, those apprehensions which more and more affect me, asWednesday, the day of trial, approaches.