LETTER VII
MR. LOVELACE[IN CONTINUATION.]
It is much better, Jack, to tell your own story, when it must be known,than to have an adversary tell it for you. Conscious of this, I gavethem a particular account how urgent I had been with her to fix upon theThursday after I left her (it being her uncle Harlowe's anniversarybirth-day, and named to oblige her) for the private celebration; havingsome days before actually procured a license, which still remained withher.
That, not being able to prevail upon her to promise any thing, whileunder a supposed restraint! I offered to leave her at full liberty, ifshe would give me the least hope for that day. But neither did thisoffer avail me.
That this inflexibleness making me desperate, I resolved to add to myformer fault, by giving directions that she should not either go orcorrespond out of the house, till I returned from M. Hall; well knowing,that if she were at full liberty, I must for ever lose her.
That this constraint had so much incensed her, that although I wrote noless than four different letters, I could not procure a single word inanswer; though I pressed her but for four words to signify the day andthe church.
I referred to my two cousins to vouch for me the extraordinary methods Itook to send messengers to town, though they knew not the occasion; whichnow I told them was this.
I acquainted them, that I even had wrote to you, Jack, and to anothergentleman of whom I thought she had a good opinion, to attend her, inorder to press for her compliance; holding myself in readiness the lastday, at Salt-hill, to meet the messenger they should send, and proceed toLondon, if his message were favourable. But that, before they couldattend her, she had found means to fly away once more: and is now, saidI, perched perhaps somewhere under Lady Betty's window at Glenham-hall;and there, like the sweet Philomela, a thorn in her breast, warbles forthher melancholy complaints against her barbarous Tereus.
Lady Betty declared that she was not with her; nor did she know where shewas. She should be, she added, the most welcome guest to her that sheever received.
In truth, I had a suspicion that she was already in their knowledge, andtaken into their protection; for Lady Sarah I imagined incapable of beingroused to this spirit by a letter only from Miss Harlowe, and that notdirected to herself; she being a very indolent and melancholy woman. Buther sister, I find had wrought her up to it: for Lady Betty is asofficious and managing a woman as Mrs. Howe; but of a much more generousand noble disposition--she is my aunt, Jack.
I supposed, I said, that her Ladyship might have a private directionwhere to send to her. I spoke as I wished: I would have given the worldto have heard that she was inclined to cultivate the interest of any ofmy family.
Lady Betty answered that she had no direction but what was in the letter;which she had scratched out, and which, it was probable, was only atemporary one, in order to avoid me: otherwise she would hardly havedirected an answer to be left at an inn. And she was of opinion, that toapply to Miss Howe would be the only certain way to succeed in anyapplication for forgiveness, would I enable that young lady to interestherself in procuring it.
Miss Charlotte. Permit me to make a proposal.----Since we are all ofone mind, in relation to the justice due to Miss Harlowe, if Mr. Lovelacewill oblige himself to marry her, I will make Miss Howe a visit, littleas I am acquainted with her; and endeavour to engage her interest toforward the desired reconciliation. And if this can be done, I make noquestion but all may be happily accommodated; for every body knows thelove there is between Miss Harlowe and Miss Howe.
MARRIAGE, with these women, thou seest, Jack, is an atonement for all wecan do to them. A true dramatic recompense!
This motion was highly approved of; and I gave my honour, as desired, inthe fullest manner they could wish.
Lady Sarah. Well then, Cousin Charlotte, begin your treaty with MissHowe, out of hand.
Lady Betty. Pray do. And let Miss Harlowe be told, that I am ready toreceive her as the most welcome of guests: and I will not have her out ofmy sight till the knot is tied.
Lady Sarah. Tell her from me, that she shall be my daughter, instead ofmy poor Betsey!----And shed a tear in remembrance of her lost daughter.
Lord M. What say you, Sir, to this?
Lovel. CONTENT, my Lord, I speak in the language of your house.
Lord M. We are not to be fooled, Nephew. No quibbling. We will haveno slur put upon us.
Lovel. You shall not. And yet, I did not intend to marry, if sheexceeded the appointed Thursday. But, I think (according to her ownnotions) that I have injured her beyond reparation, although I were tomake her the best of husbands; as I am resolved to be, if she willcondescend, as I will call it, to have me. And be this, CousinCharlotte, my part of your commission to say.
This pleased them all.
Lord M. Give me thy hand, Bob!--Thou talkest like a man of honour atlast. I hope we may depend upon what thou sayest!
The Ladies eyes put the same question to me.
Lovel. You may, my Lord--You may, Ladies--absolutely you may.
Then was the personal character of the lady, as well as her moreextraordinary talents and endowments again expatiated upon: and MissPatty, who had once seen her, launched out more than all the rest in herpraise. These were followed by such inquiries as are never forgotten tobe made in marriage-treaties, and which generally are the principalmotives with the sages of a family, though the least to be mentioned bythe parties themselves, and yet even by them, perhaps, the first thoughtof: that is to say, inquisition into the lady's fortune; into theparticulars of the grandfather's estate; and what her father, and hersingle-souled uncles, will probably do for her, if a reconciliation beeffected; as, by their means, they make no doubt but it will be betweenboth families, if it be not my fault. The two venerables [no longertabbies with me now] hinted at rich presents on their own parts; and myLord declared that he would make such overtures in my behalf, as shouldrender my marriage with Miss Harlowe the best day's work I ever made;and what, he doubted not, would be as agreeable to that family as tomyself.
Thus, at present, by a single hair, hangs over my head the matrimonialsword. And thus ended my trial. And thus are we all friends, and Cousinand Cousin, and Nephew and Nephew, at every word.
Did ever comedy end more happily than this long trial?
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 7 Page 8
