MRS. NORTON, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE
MONDAY, JULY 24.
Excuse, my dearest young lady, my long silence. I have been extremely
ill. My poor boy has also been at death's door; and, when I hoped that
he was better, he has relapsed. Alas! my dear, he is very dangerously
ill. Let us both have your prayers!
Very angry letters have passed between your sister and Miss Howe. Every
one of your family is incensed against that young lady. I wish you would
remonstrate against her warmth; since it can do no good; for they will
not believe but that her interposition had your connivance; nor that you
are so ill as Miss Howe assures them you are.
Before she wrote, they were going to send up young Mr. Brand, the
clergyman, to make private inquiries of your health, and way of life.--
But now they are so exasperated that they have laid aside their
intention.
We have flying reports here, and at Harlowe-place, of some fresh insults
which you have undergone: and that you are about to put yourself into
Lady Betty Lawrance's protection. I believe they would not be glad (as I
should be) that you would do so; and this, perhaps, will make them
suspend, for the present, any determination in your favour.
How unhappy am I, that the dangerous way my son is in prevents my
attendance on you! Let me beg of you to write to me word how you are,
both as to person and mind. A servant of Sir Robert Beachcroft, who
rides post on his master's business to town, will present you with this;
and, perhaps, will bring me the favour of a few lines in return. He will
be obliged to stay in town several hours for an answer to his dispatches.
This is the anniversary that used to give joy to as many as had the
pleasure and honour of knowing you. May the Almighty bless you, and
grant that it may be the only unhappy one that may ever be known by you,
my dearest young lady, and by
Your ever affectionate
JUDITH NORTON.