MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE TUESDAY EVENING; AND CONTINUED
THROUGH THE NIGHT.
Well, my dear, I am alive, and here! but how long I shall be either
here, or alive, I cannot say. I have a vast deal to write; and perhaps
shall have little time for it. Nevertheless, I must tell you how the
saucy Betty again discomposed me, when she came up with this Solmes's
message; although, as you will remember from my last, I was in a way
before that wanted no additional surprises.
Miss! Miss! Miss! cried she, as fast as she could speak, with her arms
spread abroad, and all her fingers distended, and held up, will you be
pleased to walk down into your own parlour?--There is every body, I will
assure you in full congregation!--And there is Mr. Solmes, as fine as a
lord, with a charming white peruke, fine laced shirt and ruffles, coat
trimmed with silver, and a waistcoat standing on end with lace!--Quite
handsome, believe me!--You never saw such an alteration!--Ah! Miss,
shaking her head, 'tis pity you have said so much against him! but you
will know how to come off for all that!--I hope it will not be too late!
Impertinence! said I--Wert thou bid to come up in this fluttering
way?--and I took up my fan, and fanned myself.
Bless me! said she, how soon these fine young ladies will be put into
flusterations!--I mean not either to offend or frighten you, I am
sure.--
Every body there, do you say?--Who do you call every body?
Why, Miss, holding out her left palm opened, and with a flourish, and
a saucy leer, patting it with the fore finger of the other, at every
mentioned person, there is your papa!--there is your mamma!--there is
your uncle Harlowe!--there is your uncle Antony!--your aunt Hervey!--my
young lady!--and my young master!--and Mr. Solmes, with the air of a
great courtier, standing up, because he named you:--Mrs. Betty, said he,
[then the ape of a wench bowed and scraped, as awkwardly as I suppose
the person did whom she endeavoured to imitate,] pray give my humble
service to Miss, and tell her, I wait her commands.
Was not this a wicked wench?--I trembled so, I could hardly stand. I was
spiteful enough to say, that her young mistress, I supposed, bid her put
on these airs, to frighten me out of a capacity of behaving so calmly as
should procure me my uncles' compassion.
What a way do you put yourself in, Miss, said the insolent!--Come, dear
Madam, taking up my fan, which I had laid down, and approaching me with
it, fanning, shall I--
None of thy impertinence!--But say you, all my friends are below with
him? And am I to appear before them all?
I can't tell if they'll stay when you come. I think they seemed to be
moving when Mr. Solmes gave me his orders.--But what answer shall I
carry to the 'squire?
Say, I can't go!--but yet when 'tis over, 'tis over!--Say, I'll wait
upon--I'll attend--I'll come presently--say anything; I care not
what--but give me my fan, and fetch me a glass of water--
She went, and I fanned myself all the time; for I was in a flame; and
hemmed, and struggled with myself all I could; and, when she returned,
drank my water; and finding no hope presently of a quieter heart, I sent
her down, and followed her with precipitation; trembling so, that, had
I not hurried, I question if I could have got down at all.--Oh my dear,
what a poor, passive machine is the body when the mind is disordered!
There are two doors to my parlour, as I used to call it. As I entered
one, my friends hurried out the other. I just saw the gown of my sister,
the last who slid away. My uncle Antony went out with them: but he staid
not long, as you shall hear; and they all remained in the next parlour,
a wainscot partition only parting the two. I remember them both in one:
but they were separated in favour of us girls, for each to receive her
visitors in at her pleasure.
Mr. Solmes approached me as soon as I entered, cringing to the ground,
a visible confusion in every feature of his face. After half a dozen
choaked-up Madams,--he was very sorry--he was very much concerned--it
was his misfortune--and there he stopped, being unable presently to
complete a sentence.
This gave me a little more presence of mind. Cowardice in a foe begets
courage in one's self--I see that plainly now--yet perhaps, at bottom,
the new-made bravo is a greater coward than the other.
I turned from him, and seated myself in one of the fireside chairs,
fanning myself. I have since recollected, that I must have looked
very saucily. Could I have had any thoughts of the man, I should have
despised myself for it. But what can be said in the case of an aversion
so perfectly sincere?
He hemmed five or six times, as I had done above; and these produced a
sentence--that I could not but see his confusion. This sentence produced
two or three more. I believe my aunt had been his tutoress; for it was
his awe, his reverence for so superlative a Lady [I assure you!] And he
hoped--he hoped--three times he hoped, before he told me what--at
last it came out, that I was too generous (generosity, he said, was my
character) to despise him for such--for such--for such--true tokens of
his love.
I do indeed see you under some confusion, Sir; and this gives me hope,
that although I have been compelled, as I may call it, to give way
to this interview, it may be attended with happier effects than I had
apprehended from it.
He had hemmed himself into more courage.
You could not, Madam, imagine any creature so blind to your merits,
and so little attracted by them, as easily to forego the interest and
approbation he was honoured with by your worthy family, while he had
any hope given him, that one day he might, by his perseverance and zeal,
expect your favour.
I am but too much aware, Sir, that it is upon the interest and
approbation you mention, that you build such hope. It is impossible
otherwise, that a man, who has any regard for his own happiness, would
persevere against such declarations as I have made, and think myself
obliged to make, in justice to you, as well as to myself.
He had seen many instances, he told me, and had heard of more, where
ladies had seemed as averse, and yet had been induced, some by motives
of compassion, others by persuasion of friends, to change their minds;
and had been very happy afterwards: and he hoped this might be the case
here.
I have no notion, Sir, of compliment, in an article of such importance
as this: yet I am sorry to be obliged to speak my mind so plainly as I
am going to do.--Know then, that I have invincible objections, Sir, to
your address. I have avowed them with an earnestness that I believe is
without example: and why?--because I believe it is without example that
any young creature, circumstanced as I am, was ever treated as I have
been treated on your account.
It is hoped, Madam, that your consent may in time be obtained--that is
the hope; and I shall be a miserable man if it cannot.
Better, Sir, give me leave to say, you were miserable by yourself, than
that you should make two so.
You may have heard, Madam, things to my disadvantage. No man is without
enemies. Be pleased to let me know what you have heard, and I will
either own my faults, and amend; or I will convince you that I am basely
bespattered: and once I understand you overheard something that I should
say, that gave you offence: unguardedly, perhaps; but nothing but what
shewed my value, and that I would persist so long as I have hope.
I have indeed heard many things to your disadvantage:--and I was far
from being pleased with what I overheard fall from your lips: but as you
were not any thing to me, and never could be, it was not for me to be
concerned about the one or the other.
I am sorry, Madam, to hear this. I am sure you should not tell me of my
fault, that I would be unwilling to correct in myself.
Then, Sir, correct this fault--do not wish to have a young creature
compelled in the most material article of her life, for the sake of
motives she despises; and in behalf of a person she cannot value: one
that has, in her own right, sufficient to set her above all your offers,
and a spirit that craves no more than what it has, to make itself easy
and happy.
I don't see, Madam, how you would be happy, if I were to discontinue my
address: for--
That is nothing to you, Sir, interrupted I: do you but withdraw your
pretensions: and if it will be thought fit to start up another man for
my punishment, the blame will not lie at your door. You will be entitled
to my thanks, and most heartily will I thank you.
He paused, and seemed a little at a loss: and I was going to give him
still stronger and more personal instances of my plain-dealing; when in
came my uncle Antony.
So, Niece, so!--sitting in state like a queen, giving audience! haughty
audience!--Mr. Solmes, why stand you thus humbly?--Why this distance,
man? I hope to see you upon a more intimate footing before we part.
I arose, as soon as he entered--and approached him with a bend knee: Let
me, Sir, reverence my uncle, whom I have not for so long time seen!--Let
me, Sir, bespeak your favour and compassion.
You will have the favour of every body, Niece, when you know how to
deserve it.
If ever I deserved it, I deserve it now.--I have been hardly used!--I
have made proposals that ought to be accepted, and such as would not
have been asked of me. What have I done, that I must be banished and
confined thus disgracefully? that I must not be allowed to have any
free-will in an article that concerns my present and future happiness?--
Miss Clary, replied my uncle, you have had your will in every thing till
now; and this makes your parents' will sit so heavy upon you.
My will, Sir! be pleased to allow me to ask, what was my will till now,
but my father's will, and yours and my uncle Harlowe's will?--Has it not
been my pride to obey and oblige?--I never asked a favour, that I did
not first sit down and consider, if it were fit to be granted. And now,
to shew my obedience, have I not offered to live single?--Have I not
offered to divest myself of my grandfather's bounty, and to cast myself
upon my father's! and that to be withdrawn, whenever I disoblige him?
Why, dear, good Sir, am I to be made unhappy in a point so concerning my
happiness?
Your grandfather's estate is not wished from you. You are not desired
to live a single life. You know our motives, and we guess at yours. And,
let me tell you, well as we love you, we should much sooner choose to
follow you to the grave, than that yours should take place.
I will engage never to marry any man, without my father's consent, and
yours, Sir, and every body's. Did I ever give you cause to doubt my
word?--And here I will take the solemnest oath that can be offered me--
That is the matrimonial one, interrupted he, with a big voice--and to
this gentleman.--It shall, it shall, cousin Clary!--And the more you
oppose it, the worse it shall be for you.
This, and before the man, who seemed to assume courage upon it, highly
provoked me.
Then, Sir, you shall sooner follow me to the grave indeed.--I will
undergo the cruelest death--I will even consent to enter into that awful
vault of my ancestors, and have that bricked up upon me, rather than
consent to be miserable for life. And, Mr. Solmes, turning to him, take
notice of what I say: This or any death, I will sooner undergo [that
will quickly be over] than be yours, and for ever unhappy!
My uncle was in a terrible rage upon this. He took Mr. Solmes by the
hand, shocked as the man seemed to be, and drew him to the window--Don't
be surprised, Mr. Solmes, don't be concerned at this. We know, and rapt
out a sad oath, what women will say in their wrath: the wind is not more
boisterous, nor more changeable; and again he swore to that.--If you
think it worthwhile to wait for such an ungrateful girl as this, I'll
engage she'll veer about; I'll engage she shall. And a third time
violently swore to it.
Then coming up to me (who had thrown myself, very much disordered by my
vehemence, into the most distant window) as if he would have beat me;
his face violently working, his hands clinched, and his teeth set--Yes,
yes, yes, you shall, Cousin Clary, be Mr. Solmes's wife; we will see
that you shall; and this in one week at farthest.--And then a fourth
time he confirmed it!--Poor gentleman! how he swore!
I am sorry, Sir, said I, to see you in such a passion. All this, I am
but too sensible, is owing to my brother's instigation; who would not
himself give the instance of duty that is sought to be exacted from me.
It is best for me to withdraw. I shall but provoke you farther, I fear:
for although I would gladly obey you if I could, yet this is a point
determined with me; and I cannot so much as wish to get over it.
How could I avoid making these strong declarations, the man in presence?
I was going out at the door I came in at; the gentlemen looking upon one
another, as if referring to each other what to do, or whether to engage
my stay, or suffer me to go; and whom should I meet at the door but my
brother, who had heard all that had passed!
He bolted upon me so unexpectedly, that I was surprised. He took my
hand, and grasped it with violence: Return, pretty Miss, said he;
return, if you please. You shall not yet be bricked up. Your instigating
brother shall save you from that!--O thou fallen angel, said he, peering
up to my downcast face--such a sweetness here!--and such an obstinacy
there! tapping my neck--O thou true woman--though so young!--But you
shall not have your rake: remember that; in a loud whisper, as if he
would be decently indecent before the man. You shall be redeemed, and
this worthy gentleman, raising his voice, will be so good as to redeem
you from ruin--and hereafter you will bless him, or have reason to bless
him, for his condescension; that was the brutal brother's word!
He had led me up to meet Mr. Solmes, whose hand he took, as he held
mine. Here, Sir, said he, take the rebel daughter's hand: I give it you
now: she shall confirm the gift in a week's time; or will have neither
father, mother, nor uncles, to boast of.