Read Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 9 Page 27


  LETTER XXVII

  COLONEL MORDEN[IN CONTINUATION.]

  When the unhappy mourners were all retired, I directed the lid of thecoffin to be unscrewed, and caused some fresh aromatics and flowers tobe put into it.

  The corpse was very little altered, notwithstanding the journey. Thesweet smile remained.

  The maids who brought the flowers were ambitious of strewing them aboutit: they poured forth fresh lamentations over her; each wishing she hadbeen so happy as to have been allowed to attend her in London. One ofthem particularly, who is, it seems, my cousin Arabella's personalservant, was more clamorous in her grief than any of the rest; and themoment she turned her back, all the others allowed she had reason for it.I inquired afterwards about her, and found, that this creature was setover my dear cousin, when she was confined to her chamber by indiscreetseverity.

  Good Heaven! that they should treat, and suffer thus to be treated, ayoung lady, who was qualified to give laws to all her family!

  When my cousins were told that the lid was unscrewed, they pressed inagain, all but the mournful father and mother, as if by consent. Mrs.Hervey kissed her pale lips. Flower of the world! was all she could say;and gave place to Miss Arabella; who kissing the forehead of her whom shehad so cruelly treated, could only say, to my cousin James, (looking uponthe corpse, and upon him,) O Brother!--While he, taking the fair,lifeless hand, kissed it, and retreated with precipitation.

  Her two uncles were speechless. They seemed to wait each other'sexample, whether to look upon the corpse, or not. I ordered the lid tobe replaced; and then they pressed forward, as the others again did, totake a last farewell of the casket which so lately contained so rich ajewel.

  Then it was that the grief of each found fluent expression; and the faircorpse was addressed to, with all the tenderness that the sincerest loveand warmest admiration could inspire; each according to their differentdegrees of relationship, as if none of them had before looked upon her.She was their very niece, both uncles said! The injured saint, her uncleHarlowe! The same smiling sister, Arabella!--The dear creature, all ofthem!--The same benignity of countenance! The same sweet composure! Thesame natural dignity!--She was questionless happy! That sweet smilebetokened her being so! themselves most unhappy!--And then, once more,the brother took the lifeless hand, and vowed revenge upon it, on thecursed author of all this distress.

  The unhappy parents proposed to take one last view and farewell of theironce darling daughter. The father was got to the parlour-door, after theinconsolable mother: but neither of them were able to enter it. Themother said she must once more see the child of her heart, or she shouldnever enjoy herself. But they both agreed to refer their melancholycuriosity till the next day; and had in hand retired inconsolable,speechless both, their faces overspread with woe, and turned from eachother, as unable each to behold the distress of the other.

  When all were withdrawn, I retired, and sent for my cousin James, andacquainted him with his sister's request in relation to the discourse tobe pronounced at her interment; telling him how necessary it was that theminister, whoever he were, should have the earliest notice given him thatthe case would admit. He lamented the death of the reverend Dr. Lewen,who, as he said, was a great admirer of his sister, as she was of him,and would have been the fittest of all men for that office. He spokewith great asperity of Mr. Brand, upon whose light inquiry after hissister's character in town he was willing to lay some of the blame due tohimself. Mr. Melvill, Dr. Lewen's assistant, must, he said, be the man;and he praised him for his abilities; his elocution, and unexceptionablemanners; and promised to engage him early in the morning.

  He called out his sister, and he was of his opinion. So I let this uponthem.

  They both, with no little warmth, hinted their disapprobation of you,Sir, for their sister's executor, on the score of your intimatefriendship with the author of her ruin.

  You must not resent any thing I shall communicate to you of what they sayon this occasion: depending that you will not, I shall write with thegreater freedom.

  I told them how much my dear cousin was obliged to your friendship andhumanity: the injunctions she had laid you under, and your owninclination to observe them. I said, That you were a man of honour: thatyou were desirous of consulting me, because you would not willingly giveoffence to any of them: and that I was very fond of cultivating yourfavour and correspondence.

  They said there was no need of an executor out of their family; and theyhoped that you would relinquish so unnecessary a trust, as they calledit. My cousin James declared that he would write to you, as soon as thefuneral was over, to desire that you would do so, upon proper assurancesthat all the will prescribed should be performed.

  I said you were a man of resolution: that I thought he would hardlysucceed; for that you made a point of honour of it.

  I then showed them their sister's posthumous letter to you; in which sheconfesses her obligations to you, and regard for you, and for your futurewelfare.* You may believe, Sir, they were extremely affected with theperusal of it.

  * See Letter XII. of this volume.

  They were surprised that I had given up to you the produce of hergrandfather's estate since his death. I told them plainly that they mustthank themselves if any thing disagreeable to them occurred from theirsister's devise; deserted, and thrown into the hands of strangers, as shehad been.

  They said they would report all I had said to their father and mother;adding, that great as their trouble was, they found they had still moreto come. But if Mr. Belford were to be the executor of her will,contrary to their hopes, they besought me to take the trouble oftransacting every thing with you; that a friend of the man to whom theyowed all their calamity might not appear to them.

  They were extremely moved at the text their sister had chosen for thesubject of their funeral discourse.* I had extracted from the will thatarticle, supposing it probable that I might not so soon have anopportunity to show them the will itself, as would otherwise have beennecessary, on account of the interment, which cannot be delayed.

  * See the Will, in pg. 112 of this volume.