My mother, Heaven be praised! has had a fine night, and is much better.
Her fever has yielded to medicine! and now I can write once more with
freedom and ease to you, in hopes that you also are better. If this be
granted to my prayers, I shall again be happy, I write with still the
more alacrity as I have an opportunity given me to touch upon a subject
in which you are nearly concerned.
You must know then, my dear, that your cousin Morden has been here with
me. He told me of an interview he had on Monday at Lord M.'s with
Lovelace; and asked me abundance of questions about you, and about that
villanous man.
I could have raised a fine flame between them if I would: but, observing
that he is a man of very lively passions, and believing you would be
miserable if any thing should happen to him from a quarrel with a man who
is known to have so many advantages at his sword, I made not the worst of
the subjects we talked of. But, as I could not tell untruths in his
favour, you must think I said enough to make him curse the wretch.
I don't find, well as they all used to respect Colonel Morden, that he
has influence enough upon them to bring them to any terms of
reconciliation.
What can they mean by it!--But your brother is come home, it seems: so,
the honour of the house, the reputation of the family, is all the cry!
The Colonel is exceedingly out of humour with them all. Yet has he not
hitherto, it seems, seen your brutal brother.--I told him how ill you
were, and communicated to him some of the contents of your letter. He
admired you, cursed Lovelace, and raved against all your family.--He
declared that they were all unworthy of you.
At his earnest request, I permitted him to take some brief notes of such
of the contents of your letter to me as I thought I could read to him;
and, particularly, of your melancholy conclusion.*
* See Letter XXXII. of this volume.
He says that none of your friends think you are so ill as you are; nor
will believe it. He is sure they all love you; and that dearly too.
If they do, their present hardness of heart will be the subject of
everlasting remorse to them should you be taken from us--but now it seems
[barbarous wretches!] you are to suffer within an inch of your life.
He asked me questions about Mr. Belford: and, when he had heard what I
had to say of that gentleman, and his disinterested services to you, he
raved at some villanous surmises thrown out against you by that officious
pedant, Brand: who, but for his gown, I find, would come off poorly enough
between your cousin and Lovelace.
He was so uneasy about you himself, that on Thursday, the 24th, he sent
up an honest serious man,* one Alston, a gentleman farmer, to inquire of
your condition, your visiters, and the like; who brought him word that
you was very ill, and was put to great straits to support yourself: but
as this was told him by the gentlewoman of the house where you lodge,
who, it seems, mingled it with some tart, though deserved, reflections
upon your relations' cruelty, it was not credited by them: and I myself
hope it cannot be true; for surely you could not be so unjust, I will
say, to my friendship, as to suffer any inconveniencies for want of
money. I think I could not forgive you, if it were so.
* See Letter XXIII. ibid.
The Colonel (as one of your trustees) is resolved to see you put into
possession of your estate: and, in the mean time, he has actually engaged
them to remit to him for you the produce of it accrued since your
grandfather's death, (a very considerable sum;) and proposes himself to
attend you with it. But, by a hint he dropt, I find you had disappointed
some people's littleness, by not writing to them for money and supplies;
since they were determined to distress you, and to put you at defiance.
Like all the rest!--I hope I may say that without offence.
Your cousin imagines that, before a reconciliation takes place, they will
insist that you make such a will, as to that estate, as they shall
approve of: but he declares that he will not go out of England till he
has seen justice done you by every body; and that you shall not be
imposed on either by friend or foe--
By relation or foe, should he not have said?--for a friend will not
impose upon a friend.
So, my dear, you are to buy your peace, if some people are to have their
wills!
Your cousin [not I, my dear, though it was always my opinion*] says, that
the whole family is too rich to be either humble, considerate, or
contented. And as for himself, he has an ample fortune, he says, and
thinks of leaving it wholly to you.
* See Vol. I. Letter X.
Had this villain Lovelace consulted his worldly interest only, what a
fortune would he have had in you, even although your marrying him had
deprived you of a paternal share!
I am obliged to leave off here. But having a good deal still more to
write, and my mother better, I will pursue the subject in another letter,
although I send both together. I need not say how much I am, and will
ever be,
Your affectionate, &c.
ANNA HOWE.