MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.
SUNDAY EVENING, SEPT. 3.
I wonder not at the impatience your servant tells me you express to hear
from me. I was designing to write you a long letter, and was just
returned from Smith's for that purpose; but, since you are urgent, you
must be contented with a short one.
I attended the lady this morning, just before I set out for Edgware. She
was so ill over-night, that she was obliged to leave unfinished her
letter to Miss Howe. But early this morning she made an end of it, and
just sealed it up as I came. She was so fatigued with writing, that she
told me she would lie down after I was gone, and endeavour to recruit her
spirits.
They had sent for Mr. Goddard, when she was so ill last night; and not
being able to see him out of her own chamber, he, for the first time, saw
her house, as she calls it. He was extremely shocked and concerned at
it; and chid Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Lovick for not persuading her to have
such an object removed form her bed-chamber: and when they excused
themselves on the little authority it was reasonable to suppose they must
have with a lady so much their superior, he reflected warmly on those who
had more authority, and who left her to proceed with such a shocking and
solemn whimsy, as he called it.
It is placed near the window, like a harpsichord, though covered over to
the ground: and when she is so ill that she cannot well go to her closet,
she writes and reads upon it, as others would upon a desk or table. But
(only as she was so ill last night) she chooses not to see any body in
that apartment.
I went to Edgware; and, returning in the evening, attended her again.
She had a letter brought her from Mrs. Norton (a long one, as it seems by
its bulk,) just before I came. But she had not opened it; and said, that
as she was pretty calm and composed, she was afraid to look into the
contents, lest she should be ruffled; expecting now to hear of nothing
that could do her good or give her pleasure from that good woman's dear
hard-hearted neighbours, as she called her own relations.
Seeing her so weak and ill, I withdrew; nor did she desire me to tarry,
as sometimes she does, when I make a motion to depart.
I had some hints, as I went away, from Mrs. Smith, that she had
appropriated that evening to some offices, that were to save trouble, as
she called it, after her departure; and had been giving orders to her
nurse, and to Mrs. Lovick, and Mrs. Smith, about what she would have done
when she was gone; and I believe they were of a very delicate and
affecting nature; but Mrs. Smith descended not to particulars.
The doctor had been with her, as well as Mr. Goddard; and they both
joined with great earnestness to persuade her to have her house removed
out of her sight; but she assured them that it gave her pleasure and
spirits; and, being a necessary preparation, she wondered they should be
surprised at it, when she had not any of her family about her, or any old
acquaintance, on whose care and exactness in these punctilios, as she
called them, she could rely.
The doctor told Mrs. Smith, that he believed she would hold out long
enough for any of her friends to have notice of her state, and to see
her; and hardly longer; and since he could not find that she had any
certainty of seeing her cousin Morden, (which made it plain that her
relations continued inflexible,) he would go home, and write a letter to
her father, take it as she would.
She had spent great part of the day in intense devotions; and to-morrow
morning she is to have with her the same clergyman who has often attended
her; from whose hands she will again receive the sacrament.
Thou seest, Lovelace, that all is preparing, that all will be ready; and
I am to attend her to-morrow afternoon, to take some instructions from
her in relation to my part in the office to be performed for her. And
thus, omitting the particulars of a fine conversation between her and
Mrs. Lovick, which the latter acquainted me with, as well as another
between her and the doctor and apothecary, which I had a design this
evening to give you, they being of a very affecting nature, I have
yielded to your impatience.
I shall dispatch Harry to-morrow morning early with her letter to Miss
Howe: an offer she took very kindly; as she is extremely
solicitous to lessen that young lady's apprehensions for her on
not hearing from her by Saturday's post: and yet, if she write
truth, as no doubt but she will, how can her apprehensions be
lessened?