Who knows but in her time poor goody Moore may have met with a Lovelace,
or a Belford, or some such vile fellow? My little harum-scarum beauty
knows not what strange histories every woman living, who has had the
least independence of will, could tell her, were such to be as
communicative as she is. But here's the thing--I have given her cause
enough of offence; but not enough to make her hold her tongue.
Cl. As to the letters he has left with me, I know not what to say to
them: but am resolved never to have any thing to say to him.
Miss R. If, Madam, I may be allowed to say so, I think you carry
matters very far.
Cl. Has he been making a bad cause a good one with you, Madam?--That he
can do with those who know him not. Indeed I heard him talking, thought
not what he said, and am indifferent about it.--But what account does he
give of himself?
I was pleased to hear this. To arrest, to stop her passion, thought I,
in the height of its career, is a charming presage.
Then the busy Miss Rawlins fished on, to find out from her either a
confirmation or disavowal of my story--Was Lord M. my uncle? Did I court
her at first with the allowance of her friends, her brother excepted?
Had I a rencounter with that brother? Was she so persecuted in favour of
a very disagreeable man, one Solmes, as to induce her to throw herself
into my protection?
None of these were denied. All the objections she could have made, were
stifled, or kept in, by the considerations, (as she mentioned,) that she
should stay there but a little while, and that her story was too long;
but Miss Rawlins would not be thus easily answered.
Miss R. He says, Madam, that he could not prevail for marriage, till he
had consented, under a solemn oath, to separate beds, while your family
remained unreconciled.
Cl. O the wretch! What can be still in his head, to endeavour to pass
these stories upon strangers?
So no direct denial, thought I.--Admirable!--All will do by-and-by.
Miss R. He has owned that an accidental fire had frightened you very
much on Wednesday night--and that--and that--an accidental fire had
frightened you--very much frightened you--last Wednesday night!
Then, after a short pause--In short, he owned, that he had taken some
innocent liberties, which might have led to a breach of the oath you had
imposed upon him; and that this was the cause of your displeasure.
I would have been glad to see how my charmer then looked.--To be sure she
was at a loss in her own mind, to justify herself for resenting so highly
an offence so trifling.--She hesitated--did not presently speak.--When
she did, she wished that she, (Miss Rawlins,) might never meet with any
man who would take such innocent liberties with her.
Miss Rawlins pushed further.
Your case, to be sure, Madam, is very particular: but if the hope of a
reconciliation with your own friends is made more distant by your leaving
him, give me leave to say, that 'tis pity--'tis pity--[I suppose the
maiden then primm'd, fann'd, and blush'd--'tis pity] the oath cannot be
dispensed with; especially as he owns he has not been so strict a liver.