LETTER VIII
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWEMONDAY MIDNIGHT.
I am very much vexed and disturbed at an odd incident. Mrs. Sinclair hasjust now left me; I believe in displeasure, on my declining to complywith a request she made me: which was, to admit Miss Partington to ashare in my bed, her house being crowded by her nieces's guests and bytheir attendants, as well as by those of Miss Partington.
There might be nothing in it; and my denial carried a stiff and ill-natured appearance. But instantly, upon her making the request, it cameinto my thought, 'that I was in a manner a stranger to every body in thehouse: not so much as a servant I could call my own, or of whom I had anygreat opinion: that there were four men of free manners in the house,avowed supporters of Mr. Lovelace in matters of offence; himself a man ofenterprise; all, as far as I knew, (and as I had reason to think by theirnoisy mirth after I left them,) drinking deeply: that Miss Partingtonherself is not so bashful a person as she was represented to me to be:that officious pains were taken to give me a good opinion of her: andthat Mrs. Sinclair made a greater parade in prefacing the request, thansuch a request needed. To deny, thought I, can carry only an appearanceof singularity to people who already think me singular. To consent maypossibly, if not probably, be attended with inconveniencies. Theconsequences of the alternative so very disproportionate, I thought itmore prudent to incur the censure, than to risque the inconvenience.'
I told her that I was writing a long letter: that I should choose towrite till I were sleepy, and that a companion would be a restraint uponme, and I upon her.
She was loth, she said, that so delicate a young creature, and so greata fortune as Miss Partington, should be put to lie with Dorcas in apress-bed. She should be very sorry, if she had asked an improper thing.She had never been so put to it before. And Miss would stay up with hertill I had done writing.
Alarmed at this urgency, and it being easier to persist in a denialgiven, than to give it at first, I said, Miss Partington should bewelcome to my whole bed, and I would retire into the dining-room, andthere, locking myself in, write all the night.
The poor thing, she said, was afraid to lie alone. To be sure MissPartington would not put me to such an inconvenience.
She then withdrew,--but returned--begged my pardon for returning, but thepoor child, she said, was in tears.--Miss Partington had never seen ayoung lady she so much admired, and so much wished to imitate as me. Thedear girl hoped that nothing had passed in her behaviour to give medislike to her.--Should she bring her to me?
I was very busy, I said: the letter I was writing was upon a veryimportant subject. I hoped to see the young lady in the morning, when Iwould apologize to her for my particularity. And then Mrs. Sinclairhesitating, and moving towards the door, (though she turned round to meagain,) I desired her, (lighting her,) to take care how she went down.
Pray, Madam, said she, on the stairs-head, don't give yourself all thistrouble. God knows my heart, I meant no affront: but, since you seem totake my freedom amiss, I beg you will not acquaint Mr. Lovelace with it;for he perhaps will think me bold and impertinent.
Now, my dear, is not this a particular incident, either as I have madeit, or as it was designed? I don't love to do an uncivil thing. And ifnothing were meant by the request, my refusal deserves to be calleduncivil. Then I have shown a suspicion of foul usage by it, which surelydare not be meant. If just, I ought to apprehend every thing, and flythe house and the man as I would an infection. If not just, and if Icannot contrive to clear myself of having entertained suspicions, byassigning some other plausible reason for my denial, the very stayinghere will have an appearance not at all reputable to myself.
I am now out of humour with him,--with myself,--with all the world, butyou. His companions are shocking creatures. Why, again I repeat, shouldhe have been desirous to bring me into such company? Once more I likehim not.--Indeed I do not like him!
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 4 Page 10
