You will perhaps think that I have been too long silent. But I had begun
two letters at different times since my last, and written a great deal
each time; and with spirit enough I assure you; incensed as I was against
the abominable wretch you are with; particularly on reading your's of the
21st of the past month.
The FIRST I intended to keep open till I could give you some account of
my proceedings with Mrs. Townsend. It was some days before I saw her:
and this intervenient space giving me time to reperuse what I had
written, I thought it proper to lay that aside, and to write in a style a
little less fervent; for you would have blamed me, I knew, for the
freedom of some of my expressions, (execrations, if you please.) And
when I had gone a good way in the SECOND, and change your prospects, on
his communicating to you Miss Montague's letter, and his better
behaviour, occasioning a change in your mind, I laid that aside also.
And in this uncertainty thought I would wait to see the issue of affairs
between you before I wrote again; believing that all would soon be
decided one way or other.
***
[Here I was forced to break off. I am too little my own mistress:--My
mother* is always up and down--and watching as if I were writing to a
fellow. What need I (she asks me,) lock myself in,** if I am only
reading past correspondencies? For that is my pretence, when she comes
poking in with her face sharpened to an edge, as I may say, by a
curiosity that gives her more pain than pleasure.--The Lord forgive me;
but I believe I shall huff her next time she comes in.]
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
** Ibid.
***
Do you forgive me too, my dear--my mother ought; because she says I am my
father's girl; and because I am sure I am her's.
[Upon my life, my dear, I am sometimes of opinion, that this vile man was
capable of meaning you dishonour. When I look back upon his past conduct,
I cannot help, and verily believe, that he has laid aside such thoughts.
My reasons for both opinions I will give you.]
[For the first: to-wit, that he had it once in his head to take you at
advantage if he could, I consider* that] pride, revenge, and a delight to
tread in unbeaten paths, are principal ingredients in the character of
this finished libertine. He hates all your family, yourself excepted--
yet is a savage in love. His pride, and the credit which a few plausible
qualities, sprinkled among his odious ones, have given him, have secured
him too good a reception from our eye-judging, our undistinguishing, our
self--flattering, our too-confiding sex, to make assiduity and
obsequiousness, and a conquest of his unruly passions, any part of his
study.
He has some reason for his animosity to all the men, and to one woman of
your family. He has always shown you, and his own family too, that he
prefers his pride to his interest. He is a declared marriage-hater; a
notorious intriguer; full of his inventions, and glorying in them.--As
his vanity had made him imagine that no woman could be proof against his
love, no wonder that he struggled like a lion held in toils,* against a
passion that he thought not returned.** Hence, perhaps, it is not
difficult to believe, that it became possible for such a wretch as this
to give way to his old prejudices against marriage; and to that revenge
which had always been a first passion with him.***
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
** Ibid.
*** Ibid.
[And hence we may account for] his delays--his teasing ways--his bringing
you to bear with his lodging in the same house--his making you pass to
the other people of it as his wife--his bringing you into the company of
his libertine companions--the attempt of imposing upon you that Miss
Partington for a bedfellow, &c.
[My reasons for a contrary opinion, to wit, that he is now resolved to do
you all the justice in his power to do you,] are these:--That he sees
that all his own family* have warmly engaged themselves in your cause:
that the horrid wretch loves you; with such a love, however, as Herod
loved his Mariamne: that, on inquiry, I find it to be true, that
Counsellor Williams, (whom Mr. Hickman knows to be a man of eminence in
his profession,) has actually as good as finished the settlements: that
two draughts of them have been made; one avowedly to be sent to this very
Captain Tomlinson:--and I find, that a license has actually been more
than once endeavoured to be obtained, and that difficulties have hitherto
been made, equally to Lovelace's vexation and disappointment. My
mother's proctor, who is very intimate with the proctor applied to by the
wretch, has come at this information in confidence; and hints, that, as
Mr. Lovelace is a man of high fortunes, these difficulties will probably
be got over.
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
[I had once resolved to make strict inquiry about Tomlinson; and still,
if you will, your uncle's favourite housekeeper may be sounded at a
distance.]
[I know that the matter is so laid,*] that Mrs. Hodges is supposed to
know nothing of the treaty set on foot by means of Captain Tomlinson.
But your uncle is an--
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
But your uncle is an old man;* and old men imagine themselves to be under
obligation to their paramours, if younger than themselves, and seldom
keep any thing from their knowledge.--Yet, methinks, there can be no
need; since Tomlinson, as you describe him, is so good a man, and so much
of a gentleman; the end to be answered by his being an impostor so much
more than necessary, if Lovelace has villany in his head.--And thus what
he communicated to you of Mr. Hickman's application to your uncle, and of
Mrs. Norton's to your mother (some of which particulars I am satisfied
his vile agent Joseph Leman could not reveal to his viler employer); his
pushing on the marriage-day in the name of your uncle; which it could not
answer any wicked purpose for him to do; and what he writes of your
uncle's proposal, to have it thought that you were married from the time
that you had lived in one house together; and that to be made to agree
with the time of Mr. Hickman's visit to your uncle; the insisting on a
trusty person's being present at the ceremony, at that uncle's nomination
--these things make me [assured that he now at last means honourably.]
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
[But if any unexpected delays should happen on his side, acquaint me, my
dear, with the very street where Mrs. Sinclair lives; and where Mrs.
Fretchville's house is situated (which I cannot find that you have ever
mentioned in your former letters--which is a little odd); and I will make
strict inquiries of them, and of Tomlinson too; and I will (if your heart
will let you take my advice) soon procure you a refuge from him with Mrs.
Townsend.]
[But why do I now, when you seem to be in so good a train, puzzle and
perplex you with my retrospections? And yet they may be of use to you,
if any delay happen on his part.]
[But that I think cannot well be. What you have therefore now to do, is
so to behave to this proud-spirited wretch, as may banish from his mind
all remembrance of] past disobligations,* and to receive his addresses,
as those of a betrothed lover. You will incur the censure of prudery and
affectation, if you keep him at that distance which you have hitherto
[kept him at.] His sudden (and as suddenly recovered) illness has given
him an opportunity to find out that you love him (Alas! my dear, I knew
you loved him!) He has seemed to change his nature, and is all love and
gentleness. [And no more quarrels now, I beseech you.]
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
[I am very angry with him, nevertheless, for the freedoms which he took
with your person;* and I think some guard is necessary, as he is
certainly an encroacher. But indeed all men are so; and you are such a
charming creature, and have kept him at such a distance!--But no more of
this subject. Only, my dear, be not over-nice, now you are so near the
state. You see what difficulties you laid yourself under,] when
Tomlinson's letter called you again into [the wretch's] company.
* See Letter XI. of this volume.
If you meet with no impediments, no new causes of doubt,* your reputation
in the eye of the world is concerned, that you should be his, [and, as
your uncle rightly judges, be thought to have been his before now.] And
yet, [let me tell you,] I [can hardly] bear [to think,] that these
libertines should be rewarded for their villany with the best of the sex,
when the worst of it are too good for them.
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
I shall send this long letter by Collins,* who changes his day to oblige
me. As none of our letters by Wilson's conveyance have miscarried, when
you have been in more apparently-disagreeable situations than you are in
at present, [I have no doubt] that this will go safe.
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
Miss Lardner* (whom you have seen hat her cousin Biddulph's) saw you at
St. James's church on Sunday was fortnight. She kept you in her eye
during the whole time; but could not once obtain the notice of your's,
though she courtesied to you twice. She thought to pay her compliments
to you when the service was over; for she doubted not but you were
married--and for an odd reason--because you came to church by yourself.
Every eye, (as usual, wherever you are,) she said was upon you; and this
seeming to give you hurry, and you being nearer the door than she, you
slid out before she could get to you. But she ordered her servant to
follow you till you were housed. This servant saw you step into a chair
which waited for you; and you ordered the men to carry you to the place
where they took you up. She [describes the house] as a very genteel
house, and fit to receive people of fashion: [and what makes me mention
this, is, that perhaps you will have a visit from her; or message, at
least.]
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
[So that you have Mr. Doleman's testimony to the credit of the house
and people you are with; and he is] a man of fortune, and some
reputation; formerly a rake indeed; but married to a woman of family;
and having had a palsy blow, one would think a penitent.* You have [also
Mr. Mennell's at least passive testimony; Mr.] Tomlinson's; [and now,
lastly, Miss Lardner's; so that there will be the less need for inquiry:
but you know my busy and inquisitive temper, as well as my affection for
you, and my concern for your honour. But all doubt will soon be lost in
certainty.]
[Nevertheless I must add, that I would have you] command me up, if I can
be of the least service or pleasure to you.* I value not fame; I value
not censure; nor even life itself, I verily think, as I do your honour,
and your friendship--For is not your honour my honour? And is not your
friendship the pride of my life?
* See Letter XX. of this volume.
May Heaven preserve you, my dearest creature, in honour and safety, is
the prayer, the hourly prayer, of
Your ever-faithful and affectionate,
ANNA HOWE.