Hadst thou not sinned beyond the possibility of forgiveness,
interrupted she; and this had been the first time that thus thou
solemnly promisest and invokest the vengeance thou hast as often
defied; the desperateness of my condition might have induced me to
think of taking a wretched chance with a man so profligate. But, after
what I have suffered by thee, it would be criminal in me to wish to
bind my soul in covenant to a man so nearly allied to perdition.
Good God!—how uncharitable!—I offer not to defend—would to Heaven that
I could recall—so nearly allied to perdition, Madam!—So profligate a
man, Madam!——
O how short is expression of thy crimes, and of my sufferings! Such
premeditation is thy baseness! To prostitute the characters of persons
of honour of thy own family—and all to delude a poor creature, whom
thou oughtest—But why talk I to thee? Be thy crimes upon thy head! Once
more I ask thee, Am I, or am I not, at my own liberty now?
I offered to speak in defence of the women, declaring that they really
were the very persons——
Presume not, interrupted she, base as thou art, to say one word in
thine own vindication. I have been contemplating their behaviour, their
conversation, their over-ready acquiescences, to my declarations in thy
disfavour; their free, yet affectedly-reserved light manners: and now
that the sad event has opened my eyes, and I have compared facts and
passages together, in the little interval that has been lent me, I
wonder I could not distinguish the behaviour of the unmatron-like jilt,
whom thou broughtest to betray me, from the worthy lady whom thou hast
the honour to call thy aunt: and that I could not detect the
superficial creature whom thou passedst upon me for the virtuous Miss
Montague.
Amazing uncharitableness in a lady so good herself!—That the high
spirits those ladies were in to see you, should subject them to such
censures!—I do must solemnly vow, Madam——
That they were, interrupting me, verily and indeed Lady Betty Lawrance
and thy cousin Montague!—O wretch! I see by thy solemn averment [I had
not yet averred it,] what credit ought to be given to all the rest. Had
I no other proof——
Interrupting her, I besought her patient ear. ‘I had found myself, I
told her, almost avowedly despised and hated. I had no hope of gaining
her love, or her confidence. The letter she had left behind her, on her
removal to Hampstead, sufficiently convinced me that she was entirely
under Miss Howe’s influence, and waited but the return of a letter from
her to enter upon measures that would deprive me of her for ever: Miss
Howe had ever been my enemy: more so then, no doubt, from the contents
of the letter she had written to her on her first coming to Hampstead;
that I dared not to stand the event of such a letter; and was glad of
an opportunity, by Lady Betty’s and my cousin’s means (though they knew
not my motive) to get her back to town; far, at the time, from
intending the outrage which my despair, and her want of confidence in
me, put me so vilely upon’—
I would have proceeded; and particularly would have said something of
Captain Tomlinson and her uncle; but she would not hear me further. And
indeed it was with visible indignation, and not without several angry
interruptions, that she heard me say so much.
Would I dare, she asked me, to offer at a palliation of my baseness?
The two women, she was convinced, were impostors. She knew not but
Captain Tomlinson and Mr. Mennell were so too. But whether they were so
or not, I was. And she insisted upon being at her own disposal for the
remainder of her short life—for indeed she abhorred me in every light;
and more particularly in that in which I offered myself to her
acceptance.
And, saying this, she flung from me; leaving me absolutely shocked and
confounded at her part of a conversation which she began with such
uncommon, however severe, composure, and concluded with so much sincere
and unaffected indignation.
And now, Jack, I must address one serious paragraph particularly to
thee.
I have not yet touched upon cohabitation—her uncle’s mediation she does
not absolutely discredit, as I had the pleasure to find by one hint in
this conversation—yet she suspects my future views, and has doubt about
Mennell and Tomlinson.
I do say, if she come fairly at her lights, at her clues, or what shall
I call them? her penetration is wonderful.
But if she do not come at them fairly, then is her incredulity, then is
her antipathy to me evidently accounted for.
I will speak out—thou couldst not, surely, play me booty, Jack?—Surely
thou couldst not let thy weak pity for her lead thee to an unpardonable
breach of trust to thy friend, who has been so unreserved in his
communications to thee?
I cannot believe thee capable of such a baseness. Satisfy me, however,
upon this head. I must make a cursed figure in her eye, vowing and
protesting, as I shall not scruple occasionally to vow and protest, if
all the time she has had unquestionable informations of my perfidy. I
know thou as little fearest me, as I do thee, if any point of manhood;
and wilt scorn to deny it, if thou hast done it, when thus
home-pressed.
And here I have a good mind to stop, and write no farther, till I have
thy answer.
And so I will.