My aunt has made me another visit. She began what she had to say
with letting me know that my friends are all persuaded that I still
correspond with Mr. Lovelace; as is plain, she said, by hints and
menaces he throws out, which shew that he is apprized of several things
that have passed between my relations and me, sometimes within a very
little while after they have happened.
Although I approve not of the method he stoops to take to come at his
intelligence, yet it is not prudent in me to clear myself by the ruin of
the corrupted servant, (although his vileness has neither my connivance
nor approbation,) since my doing so might occasion the detection of my
own correspondence; and so frustrate all the hopes I have to avoid
this Solmes. Yet it is not at all likely, that this very agent of Mr.
Lovelace acts a double part between my brother and him: How else can our
family know (so soon too) his menaces upon the passages they hint at?
I assured my aunt, that I was too much ashamed of the treatment I met
with (and that from every one's sake as well as for my own) to acquaint
Mr. Lovelace with the particulars of that treatment, even were the means
of corresponding with him afforded me: that I had reason to think, that
if he were to know of it from me, we must be upon such terms, that
he would not scruple making some visits, which would give me great
apprehensions. They all knew, I said, that I had no communication
with any of my father's servants, except my sister's Betty Barnes: for
although I had a good opinion of them all, and believed, if left to
their own inclinations, that they would be glad to serve me; yet,
finding by their shy behaviour, that they were under particular
direction, I had forborn, ever since my Hannah had been so disgracefully
dismissed, so much as to speak to any of them, for fear I should be the
occasion of their losing their places too. They must, therefore, account
among themselves for the intelligence Mr. Lovelace met with, since
neither my brother nor sister, (as Betty had frequently, in praise of
their open hearts, informed me,) nor perhaps their favourite Mr. Solmes,
were all careful before whom they spoke, when they had any thing to
throw out against him, or even against me, whom they took great pride to
join with him on this occasion.
It was but too natural, my aunt said, for my friends to suppose that
he had his intelligence (part of it at least) from me; who, thinking
yourself hardly treated, might complain of it, if not to him, to Miss
Howe; which, perhaps, might be the same thing; for they knew Miss Howe
spoke as freely of them, as they could do of Mr. Lovelace; and must have
the particulars she spoke of from somebody who knew what was done here.
That this determined my father to bring the whole matter to a speedy
issue, lest fatal consequences should ensue.
I perceive you are going to speak with warmth, proceeded she: [and so I
was] for my own part I am sure, you would not write any thing, if you
do write, to inflame so violent a spirit.--But this is not the end of my
present visit.
You cannot, my dear, but be convinced, that your father will be obeyed.
The more you contend against his will, the more he thinks himself
obliged to assert his authority. Your mother desires me to tell you,
that if you will give her the least hopes of a dutiful compliance, she
will be willing to see you in her closet just now, while your father is
gone to take a walk in the garden.
Astonishing perseverance! said I--I am tired with making declarations
and with pleadings on this subject; and had hoped, that my resolution
being so well known, I should not have been further urged upon it.
You mistake the purport of my present visit, Miss: [looking
gravely]--Heretofore you have been desired and prayed to obey and oblige
your friends. Entreaty is at an end: they give it up. Now it is resolved
upon, that your father's will is to be obeyed; as it is fit it should.
Some things are laid at your door, as if you concurred with Lovelace's
threatened violence to carry you off, which your mother will not
believe. She will tell you her own good opinion of you. She will tell
you how much she still loves you; and what she expects of you on
the approaching occasion. But yet, that she may not be exposed to an
opposition which would the more provoke her, she desires that you will
first assure her that you go down with a resolution to do that with a
grace which must be done with or without a grace. And besides, she wants
to give you some advice how to proceed in order to reconcile yourself
to your father, and to every body else. Will you go down, Miss Clary, or
will you not?
I said, I should think myself happy, could I be admitted to my mother's
presence, after so long a banishment from it; but that I could not wish
it upon those terms.
And this is your answer, Niece?
It must be my answer, Madam. Come what may, I never will have Mr.
Solmes. It is cruel to press this matter so often upon me.--I never will
have that man.
Down she went with displeasure. I could not help it. I was quite tired
with so many attempts, all to the same purpose. I am amazed that they
are not!--So little variation! and no concession on either side!
I will go down and deposit this; for Betty has seen I have been writing.
The saucy creature took a napkin, and dipt it in water, and with a
fleering air, here, Miss; holding the wet corner to me.
What's that for? said I.
Only, Miss, one of the fingers of your right-hand, if you please to look
at it.
It was inky.