I am afraid I shall receive a very harsh answer from her: my fault, in
the eyes of my family, is of so enormous a nature, that my first
application will hardly be encouraged. Then they know not (nor perhaps
will believe) that I am so very ill as I am. So that, were I actually to
die before they could have time to take the necessary informations, you
must not blame them too severely. You must call it a fatality. I know
not what you must call it: for, alas! I have made them as miserable as I
am myself. And yet sometimes I think that, were they cheerfully to
pronounce me forgiven, I know not whether my concern for having offended
them would not be augmented: since I imagine that nothing can be more
wounding to a spirit not ungenerous than a generous forgiveness.
I hope your mother will permit our correspondence for one month more,
although I do not take her advice as to having this man. When
catastrophes are winding up, what changes (changes that make one's heart
shudder to think of,) may one short month produce?--But if she will not--
why then, my dear, it becomes us both to acquiesce.
You can't think what my apprehensions would have been, had I known Mr.
Hickman was to have had a meeting (on such a questioning occasion as must
have been his errand from you) with that haughty and uncontroulable man.
You give me hope of a visit from Mr. Hickman: let him expect to see me
greatly altered. I know he loves me: for he loves every one whom you
love. A painful interview, I doubt! But I shall be glad to see a man
whom you will one day, and that on an early day, I hope, make happy;
whose gentle manners, and unbounded love for you, will make you so, if it
be not your own fault.
I am, my dearest, kindest friend, the sweet companion of my happy hours,
the friend ever dearest and nearest to my fond heart,
Your equally obliged and faithful,
CLARISSA HARLOWE.