I have got intelligence from one who pretends to know every thing,
that you must be married on Wednesday morning to Mr. Solmes. Perhaps,
however, she says this only to vex me; for it is that saucy creature
Betty Barnes. A license is got, as she says: and so far she went as to
tell me (bidding me say nothing, but she knew I would) that Mr. Brand is
to marry you. For Dr. Lewen I hear, refuses, unless your consent can
be obtained; and they have heard that he does not approve of their
proceedings against you. Mr. Brand, I am told, is to have his fortune
made by uncle Harlowe and among them.
You will know better than I what to make of all these matters; for
sometimes I think Betty tells me things as if I should not tell you,
and yet expects that I will.* For there is great whispering between Miss
Harlowe and her; and I have observed that when their whispering is over,
Betty comes and tells me something by way of secret. She and all the
world know how much I love you: and so I would have them. It is an
honour to me to love a young lady who is and ever was an honour to all
her family, let them say what they will.
* It is easy for such of the readers as have been attentive
to Mr. Lovelace's manner of working, to suppose, from this
hint of Miss Hervey's, that he had instructed his double-
faced agent to put his sweet-heart Betty upon alarming Miss
Hervey, in hopes she would alarm her beloved cousin, (as we
see she does,) in order to keep her steady to her
appointment with him.
But from a more certain authority than Betty's I can assure you (but I
must beg of you to burn this letter) that you are to be searched
once more for letters, and for pen and ink; for they know you write.
Something they pretend to have come at from one of Mr. Lovelace's
servants, which they hope to make something of. I know not for certain
what it is. He must be a very vile and wicked man who would boast of a
lady's favour to him, and reveal secrets. But Mr. Lovelace, I dare say,
is too much of a gentleman to be guilty of such ingratitude.
Then they have a notion, from that false Betty I believe, that you
intend to take something to make yourself sick; and so they will search
for phials and powders and such like.
If nothing shall be found that will increase their suspicions, you are
to be used more kindly by your papa when you appear before them all,
than he of late has used you.
Yet, sick or well, alas! my dear cousin! you must be married. But your
husband is to go home every night without you, till you are reconciled
to him. And so illness can be no pretence to save you.
They are sure you will make a good wife. So would not I, unless I liked
my husband. And Mr. Solmes is always telling them how he will purchase
your love by rich presents.--A syncophant man!--I wish he and Betty
Barnes were to come together; and he would beat her every day.
After what I told you, I need not advise you to secure every thing you
would not have seen.
Once more let me beg that you will burn this letter; and, pray, dearest
Madam, do not take any thing that may prejudice your health: for that
will not do. I am
Your truly loving cousin, D.H.
*****
When I first read my cousin's letter, I was half inclined to resume my
former intention; especially as my countermanding letter was not taken
away; and as my heart ached at the thoughts of the conflict I must
expect to have with him on my refusal. For see him for a few moments I
doubt I must, lest he should take some rash resolutions; especially as
he has reason to expect I will see him. But here your words, that all
punctilio is at an end the moment I am out of my father's house,
added to the still more cogent considerations of duty and reputation,
determined me once more against the rash step. And it will be very hard
(although no seasonable fainting, or wished-for fit, should stand my
friend) if I cannot gain one month, or fortnight, or week. And I have
still more hopes that I shall prevail for some delay, from my cousin's
intimation that the good Dr. Lewen refuses to give his assistance to
their projects, if they have not my consent, and thinks me cruelly used:
since, without taking notice that I am apprized of this, I can plead
a scruple of conscience, and insist upon having that worthy divine's
opinion upon it: in which, enforced as I shall enforce it, my mother
will surely second me: my aunt Hervey, and Mrs. Norton, will support
her: the suspension must follow: and I can but get away afterwards.
But, if they will compel me: if they will give me no time: if nobody
will be moved: if it be resolved that the ceremony should be read over
my constrained hand--why then--Alas! What then!--I can but--But what? O
my dear! this Solmes shall never have my vows I am resolved! and I will
say nothing but no, as long as I shall be able to speak. And who will
presume to look upon such an act of violence as a marriage?--It is
impossible, surely, that a father and mother can see such a dreadful
compulsion offered to their child--but if mine should withdraw, and
leave the task to my brother and sister, they will have no mercy.