Read Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 9 Page 3
LETTER II
MR. BELFORD[IN CONTINUATION.]
The Colonel tells me that he had written to Mr. John Harlowe, by hisservant, 'That they might spare themselves the trouble of debating abouta reconciliation; for that his dear cousin would probably be no morebefore they could resolve.'
He asked me after his cousin's means of subsisting; and whether she hadaccepted of any favour from me; he was sure, he said, she would not fromyou.
I acquainted him with the truth of her parting with some of her apparel.
This wrung his heart; and bitterly did he exclaim as well against you asagainst her implacable relations.
He wished he had not come to England at all, or had come sooner; andhoped I would apprize him of the whole mournful story, at a properseason. He added, that he had thoughts, when he came over, of fixinghere for the remainder of his days; but now, as it was impossible hiscousin could recover, he would go abroad again, and re-settle himself atFlorence or Leghorn.
The lady has been giving orders, with great presence of mind, about herbody! directing her nurse and the maid of the house to put her in thecoffin as soon as she is cold. Mr. Belford, she said, would know therest by her will.
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She has just now given from her bosom, where she always wore it, aminiature picture, set in gold, of Miss Howe. She gave it to Mrs.Lovick, desiring her to fold it up in white paper, and direct it, ToCharles Hickman, Esq. and to give it to me, when she was departed, forthat gentleman.
She looked upon the picture, before she gave it her--Sweet andever-amiable friend!--Companion!--Sister!--Lover! said she--and kissedit four several times, once at each tender appellation.
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Your other servant is come.--Well may you be impatient!--Well may you!--But do you think I can leave off, in the middle of a conversation, torun and set down what offers, and send it away piece-meal as I write?--If I could, must I not lose one half, while I put down the other?
This event is nearly as interesting to me as it is to you. If you aremore grieved than I, there can be but one reason for it; and that's atyour heart!--I had rather lose all the friends I have in the world,(yourself in the number,) than this divine lady; and shall be unhappywhenever I think of her sufferings, and of her merit; though I havenothing to reproach myself by reason of the former.
I say not this, just now, so much to reflect upon you as to express myown grief; though your conscience I suppose, will make you thinkotherwise.
Your poor fellow, who says that he begs for his life, in desiring to bedispatched back with a letter, tears this from me--else, perhaps, (forI am just sent for down,) a quarter of an hour would make you--not easyindeed--but certain--and that, in a state like your's, to a mind likeyour's, is a relief.