An unhappy misunderstanding has arisen between the dearest lady in the
world and me (the particulars of which she perhaps may give you, but I
will not, because I might be thought partial to myself;) and she
refusing to answer my most pressing and respectful letters; I am at a
most perplexing uncertainty whether she will meet us or not next
Thursday to solemnize.
My Lord is so extremely ill, that if I thought she would not oblige me,
I would defer going up to town for two or three days. He cares not to
have me out of his sight: yet is impatient to salute my beloved as his
niece before he dies. This I have promised to give him an opportunity
to do: intending, if the dear creature will make me happy, to set out
with her for this place directly from church.
With regret I speak it of the charmer of my soul, that
irreconcilableness is her family-fault—the less excusable indeed for
her, as she herself suffers by it in so high a degree from her own
relations.
Now, Sir, as you intended to be in town some time before Thursday, if
it be not too great an inconvenience to you, I could be glad you would
go up as soon as possible, for my sake: and this I the more boldly
request, as I presume that a man who has so many great affairs of his
own in hand as you have, would be glad to be at a certainty as to the
day.
You, Sir, can so pathetically and justly set before her the unhappy
consequences that will follow if the day be postponed, as well with
regard to her uncle’s disappointment, as to the part you have assured
me her mother is willing to take in the wished-for reconciliation, that
I have great hopes she will suffer herself to be prevailed upon. And a
man and horse shall be in waiting to take your dispatches and bring
them to me.
But if you cannot prevail in my favour, you will be pleased to satisfy
your friend, Mr. John Harlowe, that it is not my fault that he is not
obliged. I am, dear Sir,
Your extremely obliged and faithful servant, R. LOVELACE.