Letter
313: MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO MISS HOWE
[Summary]
(In
continuation)
I
WAS very ill, and obliged to lay down my pen. I thought I should have fainted.
But I am better now--so will proceed.
The pretended ladies, the more we talked seemed to be the
fonder of me. And the Lady Betty had Mrs. Moore called up; and asked her,
if she had accommodations for her niece and self, her woman, and two
menservants, for three or four days?
Mr. Lovelace answered for her that she had.
She would not ask her dear niece Lovelace (Permit me, my
dear, whispered she, this charming style before strangers!--I will keep
your uncle's secret) whether she should be welcome or not to be so near her.
But for the time she should stay in these parts, she would come up every night--What say you, niece Charlotte?
The pretended Charlotte answered she should like to do so, of
all things.
The
Lady Betty called her an obliging girl. She liked the place, she said. Her
cousin Leeson would excuse her. The air and my company would do her good. She
never chose to lie in the smoky town if she could help it. In short, my dear,
said if she to me, I will stay till you hear from Miss Howe; and till I have
your consent to go with me to Glenham Hall. Not one moment will I be out of your
company, when I can have it. Stedman my solicitor, as the distance from town is
so small, may attend me here for instructions. Niece Charlotte, one word with
you, child.
They retired to the farther end of the room, and talked about
their nightdresses.
The
Miss Charlotte said Morrison might be dispatched for them.
True, the other said--But she had some letters in her
private box, which she must have up. And you know, Charlotte, that I trust
nobody with the keys of that.
Could not Morrison bring up that box?
No. She thought it safest where it was. She had heard of a
robbery committed but two days ago at the foot of Hampstead Hill; and she should
be ruined if she lost her box.
Well then, it was but going to town to undress, and she would
leave her jewels behind her, and return; and should be the easier a great deal
on all accounts.
For my part, I wondered they came up with them. But that was
to be taken as a respect paid to me. And then they hinted at another visit of
ceremony which they had thought to make, had they not found me so inexpressibly
engaging.
They talked loud enough for me to hear them; on purpose, no
doubt, though in affected whispers; and concluded with high praises of me.
I was not fool enough to believe, or to be puffed up with
their encomiums; yet not suspecting them, I was not displeased at so favourable
a beginning of acquaintance with ladies (whether I were to be related to them or
not) of whom I had always heard honourable mention. And yet at the time, I
thought, highly as I they exalted me, that in some respects (though I hardly
knew in what) they fell short of what I expected them to be.
The grand deluder was at the farther end of the room, another
way; probably to give me an opportunity to hear these preconcerted praises--looking into a book which, had there not been a preconcert, would not have taken
his attention for one moment. It was Taylor's Holy Living and Dying.'
When the pretended ladies joined me, he approached me with it
in his hand--A smart book, this, my dear!--This old divine affects, I see, a
mighty flowery style upon a very solemn subject. But it puts me in mind of an
ordinary country funeral where the young women, in honour of a defunct
companion, especially if she were a virgin, or passed for such, make a
flower-bed of her coffin.
And
then, laying down the book, turning upon his heel with one of his usual airs of
gaiety, And are you determined ladies, take up your lodgings with my charming
creature?
Indeed they were.
Never were there more
cunning, more artful impostors, than these women.
Practised creatures, to be sure: yet genteel; and they must have been
well educated--Once, perhaps, as much the delight of their parents, as I was of
mine; and who knows by what arts ruined, body and mind!--Oh my dear! how pregnant
is this reflection!
But the
man!--Never was there a man so deep! Never so
consummate a deceiver! except that detested Tomlinson; whose years, and
seriousness, joined with a solidity of sense and judgement, that seemed
uncommon, gave him, one would have thought, advantages in villainy the other had
not time for. Hard, very hard, that
I should fall into the knowledge of two such wretches; when two more such I hope
are not to be met with in the world--both so determined to carry on the most
barbarous and perfidious projects against a poor young creature who
never did or wished harm to either!
Take the following slight account of these women's and
of this man's behaviour to each other before me.
Mr Lovelace carried himself
to his pretended aunt with high respect, and paid a great deference to all she
said. He permitted her to have all the advantage over him in the repartees and
retorts that passed between them. I could, indeed, easily see that it was
permitted; and that he forbore that acumen, that quickness, which he never
spared showing to the pretended Miss Montague; and which a man of
wit seldom knows how to spare showing, when an opportunity offers to
display his wit.
The pretended Miss Montague
was still more reverent in her behaviour to her aunt. While the aunt kept up the
dignity of the character she had assumed, rallying both of them with the air of
a person who depends upon the superiority which years and fortune give over
younger persons; who might have a view to be obliged to her, either in her life,
or at her death.
The severity of her
raillery, however, was turned upon Mr. Lovelace, on occasion of the character who
kept the lodgings, which, she said, I had thought myself so well warranted to
leave privately.
This
startled me. For having then no suspicion of the vile Tomlinson, I concluded
(and your letter of the 7th[1]
favoured my conclusion), that if the house were notorious, either he, or Mr.
Mennell would have given me or him some hints of it--nor, although I liked not
the people, did I observe anything in them very culpable till the Wednesday
night before, that they offered not to come to my assistance, although within
hearing of my distress (as I am sure they were), and having as much reason to be
frighted as I, at the fire, had it been real.
I looked with indignation
upon Mr. Lovelace, at this hint.
He seemed abashed. I have
not patience but to recollect the specious looks of this vile deceiver. But how
was it possible that even this florid countenance of his should enable him to
command a blush at his pleasure? For blush he did, more than once: and the
blush, on this occasion, was a deep-died crimson, unstrained-for, and natural,
as I thought--But he is so much of the actor that he seems able to enter into any
character; and his muscles and features appear entirely under obedience to his
wicked will.
The pretended lady went on, saying she had taken upon herself
to inquire after the people, on hearing that I had left the house in disgust;
and though she heard not anything much amiss, yet she heard enough to make her
wonder that he would carry his spouse, a person of so much delicacy, to a house
that, if it had not a bad fame, had not a good one.
You must think, my dear,
that I liked the pretended Lady Betty the better for this. I suppose it was
designed I should.
He was surprised, he said,
that her ladyship should hear a bad character of the people. It was what he had
never before heard that they deserved. It was easy, indeed, to see that they had
not very great delicacy, though they were not indelicate. The nature of their
livelihood, letting lodgings and taking people to board (and yet he had
understood that they were nice in these particulars), led them to aim at being
free and obliging: and it was difficult, he said, for persons of cheerful
dispositions so to behave as to avoid censure: openness of heart and countenance
in the sex (more was the pity!) too often subjected good people, whose
fortunes did not set them above the world, to uncharitable censure.
He wished, however, that her ladyship would tell
what she had
heard: although now it signified but little, because he would never ask me to
set foot within their doors again: and he begged she would not mince the matter.
Nay, no rest matter, she said. But she had been informed that
there were more women lodgers in the house than men: yet that their visitors
were more men than women. And this had been hinted to her (perhaps by ill-willers,
she could not answer for that) in such a way as if somewhat further were meant
by it than was spoken.
This, he said, was the true innuendo way of characterizing
used by detractors. Everybody and
everything had a black and a white side, as ill-wipers and well- wipers were
pleased to report. He had observed that the front house was well let, and he
believed more to the one sex, than to the other; for he had seen, occasionally
passing to and fro several genteel modest-looking women; and who it was very
probable, were not so ill-beloved but they might have visitors and relations of
both sexes: but they were none of them anything to us, or we to them: we were
not once in any of their companies: but in the genteelest and most retired house
of the two, which we had in a manner to ourselves with the use of a parlour to
the street to serve us for a servants' hall, or to receive common visitors, or
our traders only, whom we admitted not upstairs.
He always loved to speak as he found. No man in the world had
suffered more from calumny than he himself had done.
Women, he owned, ought to be more scrupulous than men needed
to be where they lodged. Nevertheless, he wished that fact rather than surmise
were to be the foundation of their judgements, especially when they spoke of one
another.
He meant no reflection upon her ladyship's informants, or
rather surmisants (as he might call them), be they who they would: nor did he
think himself obliged to defend characters impeached, or not thought well of, by
women of virtue and honour. Neither were these people of importance enough to
have so much said about them.
The pretended Lady Betty said, all who knew her would clear
her of censoriousness: that it gave her some opinion, she must needs say, of the
people, that
he had continued there so long with me; that I had rather negative than positive
reasons of dislike to them; and that so shrewd a man, as she heard Captain
Tomlinson was, had not objected to them.
I think, niece Charlotte, proceeded she, as my nephew
has not parted with these lodgings, you and I (for, as my dear Miss Harlowe
dislikes the people, I would not ask her for her company) will take a dish of
tea with my nephew there before we go out of town, and then we shall see what
sort of people they are. I have heard that Mrs. Sinclair is a mighty forbidding
creature.
With all my heart, madam. In
your ladyship's company I shall make no scruple of going any whither.
It was
ladyship at every
word; and as she seemed proud of her title, and of her dress too, I might have
guessed that she was not used to either.
What say
you, cousin
Lovelace? Lady Sarah, though a melancholy woman, is very inquisitive about all
your affairs. I must acquaint her with every particular circumstance when I go
down.
With all his heart. He would
attend her whenever she pleased. She would see very handsome apartments, and
very civil people.
The deuce is in them, said
the Miss Montague, if they appear other to us.
They then fell into family
talk: family happiness on my hoped-for accession into it. They mentioned Lord
M.'s and Lady Sarah's great desire to see me. How many friends and admirers,
with up-lift hands, I should have! (Oh my dear, what a triumph must these
creatures, and he, have over the poor devoted all the time!)- What a happy man
he would be--They would not, the Lady Betty said, give themselves the
mortification but to suppose, that I should not be one of them!
Presents were hinted at. She
resolved that I should go with her to Glenham Hall.
She would not be refused, although she were to stay a week beyond her
time for me.
She longed for the expected
letter from you. I must write to hasten it, and to let Miss Howe know how
everything stood since I wrote last. That might dispose me absolutely in their
favour, and in her nephew's; and then she hoped there would be no occasion for
me to think of entering upon any new measures.
Indeed, my dear, I did at the time intend if I heard not from
you by morning, to dispatch a man and horse to you with the particulars of all,
that you might (if you thought proper) at least put off Mrs. Townsend’s coming
up to another day--But I was miserably prevented.
She made me promise that I would write to you upon this
subject, whether I heard from you or not. One of her servants should ride post
with my letter, and wait for Miss Howe's answer.
She then launched out in deserved praises of you, my dear.
How fond should she be of the honour of your acquaintance!
The pretended Miss Montague joined in with her, as well for herself as for her
sister.
Abominably well-instructed were they both.
Oh my dear! What risks may poor giddy girls run when they
throw themselves out of the protection of their natural friends, and into the
wide world?
They then talked again of reconciliation and intimacy with
every one of my friends; with my mother particularly; and gave the dear good
lady the praises that everyone
gives her, who has the happiness to know her.
Ah, my dear Miss Howe! I had
almost forgot my resentments against the pretended nephew!--So many agreeable
things said, made me think that, if you should advise it, and if I could bring
my mind to forgive the wretch for an outrage so premeditatedly vile, and could
forbear despising him for that and his other ungrateful and wicked ways, I might
not be unhappy in an alliance with such a family. Yet, thought I at the time,
with what intermixtures does everything come to me that has the appearance of
good!--However, as my lucid recollection made me see fewer faults in the behaviour
of these pretended ladies than recollection and abhorrence have helped me since
to see, I began to reproach myself that I had not at first thrown myself into
their protection.
But amidst all these
delightful prospects, I must not, said the Lady Betty, forget that I am to go to
town.
She then ordered her coach
to be got to the door--We will all go to town together, said she, and return
together. Morrison shall stay here, and see everything as I [am] used to have it
in relation to my apartment and my bed; for I am very particular in some
respects. My cousin Leeson's servants can do all I want to be done with regard
to my nightdresses, and the like. And it will be a little airing for you, my
dear, and a good opportunity for Mr. Lovelace to order what you want of your
apparel to be sent from your former lodgings to Mrs Leeson's; and we can bring
it up with us from thence.
I had no intention to
comply. But as I did not imagine that she would insist upon my going to town
with them, I made no answer to that part of her speech.
I must here lay down my tired pen!
Recollection! Heart-affecting recollection! How it pains me!
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[1] His forged letter. See p. 811.