Read Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 3 Page 47


  LETTER XLV

  MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE FRIDAY, APRIL 22.

  Mr. Lovelace communicated to me this morning early, from hisintelligencer, the news of my brother's scheme. I like him the betterfor making very light of it, and for his treating it with contempt. Andindeed, had I not had the hint of it from you, I should have suspectedit to be some contrivance of his, in order to hasten me to town, wherehe has long wished to be himself.

  He read me the passage in that Leman's letter, which is pretty much tothe effect of what you wrote to me from Miss Lloyd; with this addition,that one Singleton, a master of a Scots vessel, is the man who is to bethe principal in this act of violence.

  I have seen him. He had been twice entertained at Harlowe-place, as mybrother's friend. He has the air of a very bold and fearless man, and Ifancy it must be his project; as my brother, I suppose, talks to everybody of the rash step I have taken, for he did not spare me before hehad this seeming reason to censure me.

  This Singleton lives at Leith; so, perhaps, I am to be carried to mybrother's house not far from that port.

  Putting these passages together, I am not a little apprehensive that thedesign, lightly as Mr. Lovelace, from his fearless temper, treats it,may be attempted to be carried into execution; and of the consequencesthat may attend it, if it be.

  I asked Mr. Lovelace, seeing him so frank and cool, what he would adviseme to do.

  Shall I ask you, Madam, what are your own thoughts?--Why I return thequestion, said he, is, because you have been so very earnest that Ishould leave you as soon as you are in London, that I know not what topropose without offending you.

  My opinion is, said I, that I should studiously conceal myself from theknowledge of every body but Miss Howe; and that you should leave meout of hand; since they will certainly conclude, that where one is, theother is not far off: and it is easier to trace you than me.

  You would not surely wish, said he, to fall into your brother's handsby such a violent measure as this? I propose not to throw myselfofficiously in their way; but should they have reason to think I avoidedthem, would not that whet their diligence to find you, and their courageto attempt to carry you off, and subject me to insults that no man ofspirit can bear?

  Lord bless me! said I, to what had this one fatal step that I have beenbetrayed into----

  Dearest Madam, let me beseech you to forbear this harsh language, whenyou see, by this new scheme, how determined they were upon carryingtheir old ones, had you not been betrayed, as you call it. Have Ioffered to defy the laws of society, as this brother of yours must do,if any thing be intended by this project? I hope you will be pleased toobserve that there are as violent and as wicked enterprisers as myself.But this is so very wild a project, that I think there can be no roomfor apprehensions from it. I know your brother well. When at college,he had always a romantic turn: but never had a head for any thing but topuzzle and confound himself. A half-invention, and a whole conceit; butnot master of talents to do himself good, or others harm, but as thoseothers gave him the power by their own folly.

  This is very volubly run off, Sir!--But violent spirits are but too muchalike; at least in their methods of resenting. You will not presume tomake yourself a less innocent man, surely, who had determined to bravemy whole family in person, if my folly had not saved you the rashness,and them the insult--

  Dear Madam!--Still must it be folly, rashness!--It is as impossible foryou to think tolerably of any body out of your own family, as it isfor any one in your family to deserve your love! Forgive me, dearestcreature! If I did not love you as never man loved a woman, I mightappear more indifferent to preferences so undeservedly made. But let meask you, Madam, What have you borne from me? What cause have I givenyou to treat me with so much severity and so little confidence? And whathave you not borne from them? Malice and ill-will, sitting in judgmentupon my character, may not give sentence in my favour: But what of yourown knowledge have you against me?

  Spirited questions, were they not, my dear?--And they were asked withas spirited an air. I was startled. But I was resolved not to desertmyself.

  Is this a time, Mr. Lovelace, is this a proper occasion taken, togive yourself these high airs to me, a young creature destitute ofprotection? It is a surprising question you ask me--Had I aught againstyou of my own knowledge--I can tell you, Sir--And away I would haveflung.

  He snatched my hand, and besought me not to leave him in displeasure. Hepleaded his passion for me, and my severity to him, and partiality forthose from whom I had suffered so much; and whose intended violence, hesaid, was now the subject of our deliberation.

  I was forced to hear him.

  You condescended, dearest creature, said he, to ask my advice. It wasvery easy, give me leave to say, to advise you what to do. I hope I may,on this new occasion, speak without offence, notwithstanding your formerinjunctions--You see that there can be no hope of reconciliation withyour relations. Can you, Madam, consent to honour with your hand awretch whom you have never yet obliged with one voluntary favour!

  What a recriminating, what a reproachful way, my dear, was this, ofputting a question of this nature!

  I expected not from him, at the time, and just as I was very angry withhim, either the question or the manner. I am ashamed to recollect theconfusion I was thrown into; all your advice in my head at the moment:yet his words so prohibitory. He confidently seemed to enjoy myconfusion [indeed, my dear, he knows not what respectful love is!] andgazed upon me, as if he would have looked me through.

  He was still more declarative afterwards, as I shall mention by-and-by:but it was half extorted from him.

  My heart struggled violently between resentment and shame, to be thusteased by one who seemed to have all his passions at command, at a timewhen I had very little over mine! till at last I burst into tears, andwas going from him in high disgust: when, throwing his arms about me,with an air, however, the most tenderly respectful, he gave a stupidturn to the subject.

  It was far from his heart, he said, to take so much advantage of thestreight, which the discovery of my brother's foolish project hadbrought me into, as to renew, without my permission, a proposal which Ihad hitherto discountenanced, and which for that reason--

  And then he came with his half-sentences, apologizing for what he hadnot so much as half-proposed.

  Surely he had not the insolence to intend to tease me, to see if I couldbe brought to speak what became me not to speak. But whether he had ornot, it did tease me; insomuch that my very heart was fretted, and Ibroke out, at last, into fresh tears, and a declaration that I was veryunhappy. And just then recollecting how like a tame fool I stood withhis arms about me, I flung from him with indignation. But he seized myhand, as I was going out of the room, and upon his knees besought mystay for one moment: and then, in words the most clear and explicit,tendered himself to my acceptance, as the most effectual means todisappoint my brother's scheme, and set all right.

  But what could I say to this?--Extorted from him, as it seemed to me,rather as the effect of his compassion than his love? What could I say?I paused, I looked silly--I am sure I looked very silly. He suffered meto pause, and look silly; waiting for me to say something: and at last(ashamed of my confusion, and aiming to make an excuse for it) I toldhim that I desired he would avoid such measures as might add to theuneasiness which it must be visible to him I had, when he reflected uponthe irreconcilableness of my friends, and upon what might follow fromthis unaccountable project of my brother.

  He promised to be governed by me in every thing. And again the wretch,instead of pressing his former question, asked me, If I forgave him forthe humble suit he had made to me? What had I to do but to try for apalliation of my confusion, since it served me not?

  I told him I had hopes it would not be long before Mr. Morden arrived;and doubted not that that gentleman would be the readier to engage in myfavour, when he found that I made no other use of his (Mr. Lovelace's)assistance, than to free myself from the addresses of a
man sodisagreeable to me as Mr. Solmes: I must therefore wish that every thingmight remain as it was till I could hear from my cousin.

  This, although teased by him as I was, was not, you see, my dear,a denial. But he must throw himself into a heat, rather than try topersuade; which any other man in his situation, I should think, wouldhave done; and this warmth obliged me to adhere to my seeming negative.

  This was what he said, with a vehemence that must harden any woman'smind, who had a spirit above being frighted into passiveness--

  Good God! and will you, Madam, still resolve to show me that I amto hope for no share in your favour, while any the remotest prospectremains that you will be received by my bitterest enemies, at the priceof my utter rejection?

  This was what I returned, with warmth, and with a salving art too--Youshould have seen, Mr. Lovelace, how much my brother's violence canaffect me: but you will be mistaken if you let loose yours upon me, witha thought of terrifying me into measures the contrary of which you haveacquiesced with.

  He only besought me to suffer his future actions to speak for him; andif I saw him worthy of any favour, that I would not let him be the onlyperson within my knowledge who was not entitled to my consideration.

  You refer to a future time, Mr. Lovelace, so do I, for the future proofof a merit you seem to think for the past time wanting: and justly youthink so. And I was again going from him.

  One word more he begged me to hear--He was determined studiously toavoid all mischief, and every step that might lead to mischief, let mybrother's proceedings, short of a violence upon my person, be what theywould: but if any attempt that should extend to that were to be made,would I have had him to be a quiet spectator of my being seized, orcarried back, or on board, by this Singleton; or, in case of extremity,was he not permitted to stand up in my defence?

  Stand up in my defence, Mr. Lovelace!--I should be very miserable werethere to be a call for that. But do you think I might not be safe andprivate in London? By your friend's description of the widow's house, Ishould think I might be safe there.

  The widow's house, he replied, as described by his friend, being a backhouse within a front one, and looking to a garden, rather than to astreet, had the appearance of privacy: but if, when there, it was notapproved, it would be easy to find another more to my liking--though, asto his part, the method he would advise should be, to write to my uncleHarlowe, as one of my trustees, and wait the issue of it here at Mrs.Sorlings's, fearlessly directing it to be answered hither. To be afraidof little spirits was but to encourage insults, he said. The substanceof the letter should be, 'To demand as a right, what they would refuseif requested as a courtesy: to acknowledge that I had put myself [toowell, he said, did their treatment justify me] into the protection ofthe ladies of his family [by whose orders, and Lord M.'s, he himselfwould appear to act]: but that upon my own terms, which were such, thatI was under no obligation to those ladies for the favour; it beingno more than they would have granted to any one of my sex, equallydistressed.' If I approved not of his method, happy should he thinkhimself, he said, if I would honour him with the opportunity of makingsuch a claim in his own name--but this was a point [with his but'sagain in the same breath!] that he durst but just touch upon. He hoped,however, that I would think their violence a sufficient inducement forme to take such a wished-for resolution.

  Inwardly vexed, I told him that he himself had proposed to leave me whenI was in town; that I expected he would: and that, when I was known tobe absolutely independent, I should consider what to write, and what todo: but that while he was with me, I neither would nor could.

  He would be very sincere with me, he said: this project of my brother'shad changed the face of things. He must, before he left me, see whetherI should or should not approve of the London widow and her family, if Ichose to go thither. They might be people whom my brother might buy. Butif he saw they were persons of integrity, he then might go for a dayor two, or so. But he must needs say, he could not leave me longer at atime.

  Do you propose, Sir, said I, to take up your lodgings in the house whereI shall lodge?

  He did not, he said, as he knew the use I intended to make of hisabsence, and my punctilio--and yet the house where he had lodgings wasnew-fronting, and not in condition to receive him: but he could go tohis friend Belford's, in Soho; or perhaps he might reach to the samegentleman's house at Edgware, over night, and return on the mornings,till he had reason to think this wild project of my brother's laidaside. But to no greater distance till then should he care to venture.

  The result of all was, to set out on Monday next for town. I hope itwill be in a happy hour.

  CL. HARLOWE.