I must write as I have opportunity; making use of my concealed stores:
for my pens and ink (all of each that they could find) are taken from
me; as I shall tell you about more particularly by and by.
About an hour ago, I deposited my long letter to you; as also, in the
usual place, a billet to Mr. Lovelace, lest his impatience should put
him upon some rashness; signifying, in four lines, 'That the interview
was over; and that I hoped my steady refusal of Mr. Solmes would
discourage any further applications to me in his favour.'
Although I was unable (through the fatigue I had undergone, and by
reason of sitting up all night, to write to you, which made me lie
longer than ordinary this morning) to deposit my letter to you sooner,
yet I hope you will have it in such good time, as that you will be able
to send me an answer to it this night, or in the morning early; which,
if ever so short, will inform me, whether I may depend upon your
mother's indulgence or not. This it behoves me to know as soon as
possible; for they are resolved to hurry me away on Saturday next at
farthest; perhaps to-morrow.
I will now inform you of all that has happened previous to their taking
away my pen and ink, as well as of the manner in which that act of
violence was committed; and this as briefly as I can.
My aunt, who (as well as Mr. Solmes, and my two uncles) lives here, I
think, came up to me, and said, she would fain have me hear what Mr.
Solmes had to say of Mr. Lovelace--only that I may be apprized of
some things, that would convince me what a vile man he is, and what a
wretched husband he must make. I might give them what degree of credit
I pleased; and take them with abatement for Mr. Solmes's interestedness,
if I thought fit. But it might be of use to me, were it but to question
Mr. Lovelace indirectly upon some of them, that related to myself.
I was indifferent, I said, about what he could say of me; and I was sure
it could not be to my disadvantage; and as he had no reason to impute to
me the forwardness which my unkind friends had so causelessly taxed me
with.
She said, That he gave himself high airs on account of his family; and
spoke as despicably of ours as if an alliance with us were beneath him.
I replied, That he was a very unworthy man, if it were true, to speak
slightingly of a family, which was as good as his own, 'bating that
it was not allied to the peerage: that the dignity itself, I thought,
conveyed more shame than honour to descendants, who had not merit to
adorn, as well as to be adorned by it: that my brother's absurd pride,
indeed, which made him every where declare, he would never marry but to
quality, gave a disgraceful preference against ours: but that were I
to be assured, that Mr. Lovelace was capable of so mean a pride as to
insult us or value himself on such an accidental advantage, I should
think as despicably of his sense, as every body else did of his morals.
She insisted upon it, that he had taken such liberties, it would be but
common justice (so much hated as he was by all our family, and so
much inveighed against in all companies by them) to inquire into the
provocation he had to say what was imputed to him; and whether the value
some of my friends put upon the riches they possess (throwing perhaps
contempt upon every other advantage, and even discrediting their own
pretensions to family, in order to depreciate his) might not provoke him
to like contempts. Upon the whole, Madam, said I, can you say, that the
inveteracy lies not as much on our side, as on his? Can he say any thing
of us more disrespectful than we say of him?--And as to the suggestion,
so often repeated, that he will make a bad husband, Is it possible for
him to use a wife worse than I am used; particularly by my brother and
sister?
Ah, Niece! Ah, my dear! how firmly has this wicked man attached you!
Perhaps not, Madam. But really great care should be taken by fathers and
mothers, when they would have their daughters of their minds in these
particulars, not to say things that shall necessitate the child, in
honour and generosity, to take part with the man her friends are averse
to. But, waving all this, as I have offered to renounce him for ever, I
see now why he should be mentioned to me, nor why I should be wished to
hear any thing about him.
Well, but still, my dear, there can be no harm to let Mr. Solmes tell
you what Mr. Lovelace has said of you. Severely as you have treated Mr.
Solmes, he is fond of attending you once more: he begs to be heard on
this head.