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Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 8

Page 58

by Samuel Richardson


  LETTER LVII

  MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.MONDAY, SEPT. 4.

  The lady would not read the letter she had from Mrs. Norton till she hadreceived the Communion, for fear it should contain any thing that mightdisturb that happy calm, which she had been endeavouring to obtain forit. And when that solemn office was over, she was so composed, she said,that she thought she could receive any news, however affecting, withtranquillity.

  Nevertheless, in reading it, she was forced to leave off several timesthrough weakness and a dimness in her sight, of which she complained; ifI may say complained; for so easy and soft were her complaints, that theycould hardly be called such.

  She was very much affected at divers parts of this letter. She weptseveral times, and sighed often. Mrs. Lovick told me, that these werethe gentle exclamations she broke out into, as she read:--Her unkind, hercruel brother!--How unsisterly!--Poor dear woman! seeming to speak ofMrs. Norton. Her kind cousin!--O these flaming spirits! And thenreflecting upon herself more than once--What a deep error is mine!--Whatevils have I been the occasion of!--

  When I was admitted to her presence, I have received, said she, a longand not very pleasing letter from my dear Mrs. Norton. It will soon bein your hands. I am advised against appointing you to the office youhave so kindly accepted of: but you must resent nothing of these things.My choice will have an odd appearance to them: but it is now too late toalter it, if I would.

  I would fain write an answer to it, continued she: but I have no distinctsight, Mr. Belford, no steadiness of fingers.--This mistiness, however,will perhaps be gone by-and-by.--Then turning to Mrs. Lovick, I don'tthink I am dying yet--not actually dying, Mrs. Lovick--for I have nobodily pain--no numbnesses; no signs of immediate death, I think.--And mybreath, which used of late to be so short, is now tolerable--my headclear, my intellects free--I think I cannot be dying yet--I shall haveagonies, I doubt--life will not give up so blessedly easy, I fear--yethow merciful is the Almighty, to give his poor creature such a sweetserenity!--'Tis what I have prayed for!--What encouragement, Mrs. Lovick,so near one's dissolution, to have it to hope that one's prayers areanswered.

  Mrs. Smith, as well as Mrs. Lovick, was with her. They were both intears; nor had I, any more than they, power to say a word in answer: yetshe spoke all this, as well as what follows, with a surprising composureof mind and countenance.

  But, Mr. Belford, said she, assuming a still sprightlier air and accent,let me talk a little to you, while I am thus able to say what I have tosay.

  Mrs. Lovick, don't leave us, [for the women were rising to go,] pray sitdown; and do you, Mrs. Smith, sit down too.--Dame Shelbourne, take thiskey, and open the upper drawer. I will move to it.

  She did, with trembling knees. Here, Mr. Belford, is my will. It iswitnessed by three persons of Mr. Smith's acquaintance.

  I dare to hope, that my cousin Morden will give you assistance, if yourequest it of him. My cousin Morden continued his affection for me: butas I have not seen him, I leave all the trouble upon you, Mr. Belford.This deed may want forms; and it does, no doubt: but the less, as I havemy grandfather's will almost by heart, and have often enough heard thatcanvassed. I will lay it by itself in this corner; putting it at thefurther end of the drawer.

  She then took up a parcel of letters, enclosed in one cover, sealed withthree seals of black wax: This, said she, I sealed up last night. Thecover, Sir, will let you know what is to be done with what it encloses.This is the superscription [holding it close to her eyes, and rubbingthem]; As soon as I am certainly dead, this to be broke open by Mr.Belford.--Here, Sir, I put it [placing it by the will].--These foldedpapers are letters, and copies of letters, disposed according to theirdates. Miss Howe will do with those as you and she shall think fit.If I receive any more, or more come when I cannot receive them, they maybe put into this drawer, [pulling out and pushing in the looking-glassdrawer,] to be given to Mr. Belford, be they from whom they will. You'llbe so kind as to observe that, Mrs. Lovick, and dame Shelbourne.

  Here, Sir, proceeded she, I put the keys of my apparel [putting them intothe drawer with her papers]. All is in order, and the inventory uponthem, and an account of what I have disposed of: so that nobody need toask Mrs. Smith any questions.

  There will be no immediate need to open or inspect the trunks whichcontain my wearing apparel. Mrs. Norton will open them, or ordersomebody to do it for her, in your presence, Mrs. Lovick; for so I havedirected in my will. They may be sealed up now: I shall never more haveoccasion to open them.

  She then, though I expostulated with her to the contrary, caused me toseal them up with my seal.

  After this, she locked up the drawer where were her papers; first takingout her book of meditations, as she called it; saying, she should,perhaps, have use for that; and then desired me to take the key of thatdrawer; for she should have no further occasion for that neither.

  All this in so composed and cheerful a manner, that we were equallysurprised and affected with it.

  You can witness for me, Mrs. Smith, and so can you, Mrs. Lovick,proceeded she, if any one ask after my life and conversation, since youhave known me, that I have been very orderly; have kept good hours; andnever have lain out of your house but when I was in prison; and then youknow I could not help it.

  O, Lovelace! that thou hadst heard her or seen her, unknown to herself,on this occasion!--Not one of us could speak a word.

  I shall leave the world in perfect charity, proceeded she. And turningtowards the women, don't be so much concerned for me, my good friends.This is all but needful preparation; and I shall be very happy.

  Then again rubbing her eyes, which she said were misty, and looked moreintently round upon each, particularly on me--God bless you all! saidshe; how kindly are you concerned for me!--Who says I am friendless? Whosays I am abandoned, and among strangers?--Good Mr. Belford, don't be sogenerously humane!--Indeed [putting her handkerchief to her charmingeyes,] you will make me less happy, than I am sure you wish me to be.

  While we were thus solemnly engaged, a servant came with a letter fromher cousin Morden:--Then, said she, he is not come himself!

  She broke it open; but every line, she said, appeared two to her: sothat, being unable to read it herself, she desired I would read it toher. I did so; and wished it were more consolatory to her: but she wasall patient attention: tears, however, often trickling down her cheeks.By the date, it was written yesterday; and this is the substance of it.

  He tells her, 'That the Thursday before he had procured a general meetingof her principal relations, at her father's; though not withoutdifficulty, her haughty brother opposing it, and, when met, rendering allhis endeavours to reconcile them to her ineffectual. He censures him, asthe most ungovernable young man he ever knew: some great sickness, hesays, some heavy misfortune, is wanted to bring him to a knowledge ofhimself, and of what is due from him to others; and he wishes that hewere not her brother, and his cousin. Nor doe he spare her father anduncles for being so implicitly led by him.'

  He tells her, 'That he parted with them all in high displeasure, andthought never more to darken any of their doors: that he declared as muchto her two uncles, who came to him on Saturday, to try to accommodatewith him; and who found him preparing to go to London to attend her; andthat, notwithstanding their pressing entreaties, he determined so to do,and not to go with them to Harlowe-place, or to either of their ownhouses; and accordingly dismissed them with such an answer.

  'But that her noble letter,' as he calls it, of Aug. 31,* 'being broughthim about an hour after their departure, he thought it might affect themas much as it did him; and give them the exalted opinion of her virtuewhich was so well deserved; he therefore turned his horse's head backto her uncle Antony's, instead of forwards toward London.

  * See Letter XLV. of this volume.

  'That accordingly arriving there, and finding her two uncles together, heread to them the affecting letter; which left none of the three a dryeye: that the ab
sent, as is usual in such cases, bearing all the load,they accused her brother and sister; and besought him to put off hisjourney to town, till he could carry with him the blessings which she hadformerly in vain solicited for; and (as they hoped) the happy tidings ofa general reconciliation.

  'That not doubting but his visit would be the more welcome to her, ifthese good ends could be obtained, he the more readily complied withtheir desires. But not being willing to subject himself to thepossibility of receiving fresh insult from her brother, he had given heruncles a copy of her letter, for the family to assemble upon; and desiredto know, as soon as possible, the result of their deliberations.

  'He tells her, that he shall bring her up the accounts relating to theproduce of her grandfather's estate, and adjust them with her; havingactually in his hands the arrears due to her from it.

  'He highly applauds the noble manner in which she resents your usage ofher. It is impossible, he owns, that you can either deserve her, or tobe forgiven. But as you do justice to her virtue, and offer to make herall the reparation now in your power; and as she is so very earnest withhim not to resent that usage; and declares, that you could not have beenthe author of her calamities but through a strange concurrence of unhappycauses; and as he is not at a loss to know how to place to a properaccount that strange concurrence; he desires her not to be apprehensiveof any vindictive measures from him.'

  Nevertheless (as may be expected) 'he inveighs against you; as he findsthat she gave you no advantage over her. But he forbears to enterfurther into this subject, he says, till he has the honour to see her;and the rather, as she seems so much determined against you. However, hecannot but say, that he thinks you a gallant man, and a man of sense; andthat you have the reputation of being thought a generous man in everyinstance but where the sex is concerned. In such, he owns, that you havetaken inexcusable liberties. And he is sorry to say, that there are veryfew young men of fortune but who allow themselves in the same. Bothsexes, he observes, too much love to have each other in their power: yethe hardly ever knew man or woman who was very fond of power make a rightuse of it.

  'If she be so absolutely determined against marrying you, as she declaresshe is, he hopes, he says, to prevail upon her to take (as soon as herhealth will permit) a little tour abroad with him, as what will probablyestablish it; since traveling is certainly the best physic for all thosedisorders which owe their rise to grief or disappointment. An absence oftwo or three years will endear her to every one, on her return, and everyone to her.

  'He expresses his impatience to see her. He will set out, he says, themoment he knows the result of her family's determination; which, hedoubts not, will be favourable. Nor will he wait long for that.'

  When I had read the letter through to the languishing lady, And so, myfriends, said she, have I heard of a patient who actually died, whilefive or six principal physicians were in a consultation, and not agreedupon what name to give his distemper. The patient was an emperor, theemperor Joseph, I think.

  I asked, if I should write to her cousin, as he knew not how ill she was,to hasten up?

  By no means, she said; since, if he were not already set out, she waspersuaded that she should be so low by the time he could receive myletter, and come, that his presence would but discompose and hurry her,and afflict him.

  I hope, however, she is not so very near her end. And without saying anymore to her, when I retired, I wrote to Colonel Morden, that if heexpects to see his beloved cousin alive, he must lose no time in settingout. I sent this letter by his own servant.

  Dr. H. sent away his letter to her father by a particular hand thismorning.

  Mrs. Walton the milliner has also just now acquainted Mrs. Smith, thather husband had a letter brought by a special messenger from ParsonBrand, within this half hour, enclosing the copy of one he had written toMr. John Harlowe, recanting his officious one.

  And as all these, and the copy of the lady's letter to Col. Morden, willbe with them pretty much at a time, the devil's in the family if they arenot struck with a remorse that shall burst open the double-barred doorsof their hearts.

  Will. engages to reach you with this (late as it will be) before you goto rest. He begs that I will testify for him the hour and the minute Ishall give it him. It is just half an hour after ten.

  I pretend to be (now by use) the swiftest short-hand writer in England,next to yourself. But were matter to arise every hour to write upon, andI had nothing else to do, I cannot write so fast as you expect. And letit be remembered, that your servants cannot bring letters or messagesbefore they are written or sent.

 

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