I might be a very wicked fellow, Jack, if I were to do all the mischief
in my power. But I am evermore for quitting a too-easy prey to reptile
rakes! What but difficulty, (though the lady is an angel,) engages me to
so much perseverance here?--And here, conquer or die! is now the
determination!
***
I have just now parted with this honest widow. She called upon me at my
new lodgings. I told her, that I saw I must be further obliged to her in
the course of this difficult affair. She must allow me to make her a
handsome present when all was happily over. But I desired that she would
take no notice of what should pass between us, not even to her aunt; for
that she, as I saw, was in the power of Miss Rawlins: and Miss Rawlins,
being a maiden gentlewoman, knew not the right and the fit in matrimonial
matters, as she, my dear widow, did.
Very true: How should she? said Mrs. Bevis, proud of knowing--nothing!
But, for her part, she desired no present. It was enough if she could
contribute to reconcile man and wife, and disappoint mischief-makers.
She doubted not, that such an envious creature as Miss Howe was glad that
Mrs. Lovelace had eloped--jealousy and love was Old Nick!
See, Belford, how charmingly things work between me and my new
acquaintance, the widow!--Who knows, but that she may, after a little
farther intimacy, (though I am banished the house on nights,) contrive a
midnight visit for me to my spouse, when all is still and fast asleep?
Where can a woman be safe, who has once entered the lists with a
contriving and intrepid lover?
But as to this letter, methinkest thou sayest, of Miss Howe?
I knew thou wouldest be uneasy for me. But did not I tell thee that I
had provided for every thing? That I always took care to keep seals
entire, and to preserve covers?* Was it not easy then, thinkest thou, to
contrive a shorter letter out of a longer; and to copy the very words?
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
I can tell thee, it was so well ordered, that, not being suspected to
have been in my hands, it was not easy to find me out. Had it been my
beloved's hand, there would have been no imitating it for such a length.
Her delicate and even mind is seen in the very cut of her letters. Miss
Howe's hand is no bad one, but it is not so equal and regular. That
little devil's natural impatience hurrying on her fingers, gave, I
suppose, from the beginning, her handwriting, as well as the rest of her,
its fits and starts, and those peculiarities, which, like strong muscular
lines in a face, neither the pen, nor the pencil, can miss.
Hast thou a mind tot see what it was I permitted Miss Howe to write to
her lovely friend? Why then, read it here, so extracted from her's of
Wednesday last, with a few additions of my own. The additions
underscored.*
* Editor's note: In place of italics, as in the original, I have
substituted hooks [ ].