Is it Wednesday still, said she; bless me! I know not how the time goes
--but very tediously, 'tis plain. And now I think I must soon take to my
bed. All will be most conveniently, and with least trouble, over there--
will it not, Mrs. Lovick?--I think, Sir, turning to me, I have left
nothing to these last incapacitating hours. Nothing either to say, or to
do--I bless God, I have not. If I had, how unhappy should I be! Can
you, Sir, remind me of any thing necessary to be done or said to make
your office easy?
If, Madam, your cousin Morden should come, you would be glad to see him,
I presume?
I am too weak to wish to see my cousin now. It would but discompose me,
and him too. Yet, if he come while I can see him, I will see him, were
it but to thank him for former favours, and for his present kind
intentions to me. Has any body been here from him?
He has called, and will be here, Madam, in half an hour; but he feared to
surprise you.
Nothing can surprise me now, except my mamma were to favour me with her
last blessing in person. That would be a welcome surprise to me, even
yet. But did my cousin come purposely to town to see me?
Yes, Madam, I took the liberty to let him know, by a line last Monday,
how ill you were.
You are very kind, Sir. I am, and have been greatly obliged to you. But
I think I shall be pained to see him now, because he will be concerned to
see me. And yet, as I am not so ill as I shall presently be--the sooner
he comes the better. But if he come, what shall I do about the screen?
He will chide me, very probably, and I cannot bear chiding now. Perhaps,
[leaning upon Mrs. Lovick and Mrs. Smith,] I can walk into the next
apartment to receive him.
She motioned to rise, but was ready to faint again, and forced to sit
still.
The Colonel was in a perfect agitation behind the screen to hear this
discourse; and twice, unseen by his cousin, was coming from it towards
her; but retreated for fear of surprising her too much.
I stept to him, and favoured his retreat; she only saying, Are you going,
Mr. Belford? Are you sent for down? Is my cousin come? For she heard
somebody step softly across the room, and thought it to be me; her
hearing being more perfect than her sight.
I told her, I believed he was; and she said, We must make the best of it,
Mrs. Lovick, and Mrs. Smith. I shall otherwise most grievously shock my
poor cousin: for he loved me dearly once.--Pray give me a few of the
doctor's last drops in water, to keep up my spirits for this one
interview; and that is all, I believe, that can concern me now.
The Colonel, (who heard all this,) sent in his name; and I, pretending to
go down to him, introduced the afflicted gentleman; she having first
ordered the screen to be put as close to the window as possible, that he
might not see what was behind it; while he, having heard what she had
said about it, was determined to take no notice of it.
He folded the angel in his arms as she sat, dropping down on one knee;
for, supporting herself upon the two elbows of the chair, she attempted
to rise, but could not. Excuse, my dear Cousin, said she, excuse me,
that I cannot stand up--I did not expect this favour now. But I am glad
of this opportunity to thank you for all your generous goodness to me.
I never, my best-beloved and dearest Cousin, said he, (with eyes running
over,) shall forgive myself, that I did not attend you sooner. Little
did I think you were so ill; nor do any of your friends believe it. If
they did--
If they did, repeated she, interrupting him, I should have had more
compassion from them. I am sure I should--But pray, Sir, how did you
leave them? Are you reconciled to them? If you are not, I beg, if you
love your poor Clarissa, that you will; for every widened difference
augments but my fault; since that is the foundation of all.
I had been expecting to hear from them in your favour, my dear Cousin,
said he, for some hours, when this gentleman's letter arrived, which
hastened me up; but I have the account of your grandfather's estate to
make up with you, and have bills and drafts upon their banker for the
sums due to you; which they desire you may receive, lest you should have
occasion for money. And this is such an earnest of an approaching
reconciliation, that I dare to answer for all the rest being according to
your wishes, if----
Ah! Sir, interrupted she, with frequent breaks and pauses--I wish--I wish
this does not rather show that, were I to live, they would have nothing
more to say to me. I never had any pride in being independent of them;
all my actions, when I might have made myself more independent, show this
--But what avail these reflections now?--I only beg, Sir, that you, and
this gentleman--to whom I am exceedingly obliged--will adjust those
matters--according to the will I have written. Mr. Belford will excuse
me; but it was in truth more necessity than choice that made me think of
giving him the trouble he so kindly accepts. Had I the happiness to see
you, my Cousin, sooner--or to know that you still honoured me with your
regard--I should not have had the assurance to ask this favour of him.--
But, though the friend of Mr. Lovelace, he is a man of honour, and he
will make peace rather than break it. And, my dear Cousin, let me beg
of you while I have nearer relations than my Cousin Morden, dear as you
are, and always were to me, you have no title to avenge my wrongs upon
him who has been the occasion of them. But I wrote to you my mind on
this subject, and my reasons--and I hope I need not further urge them.
I must do Mr. Lovelace so much justice, answered he, wiping his eyes, as
to witness how sincerely he repents him of his ungrateful baseness to
you, and how ready he is to make you all the amends in his power. He
owns his wickedness, and your merit. If he did not, I could not pass it
over, though you have nearer relations; for, my dear Cousin, did not your
grandfather leave me in trust for you? And should I think myself
concerned for your fortune, and not for your honour? But since he is so
desirous to do you justice, I have the less to say; and you may make
yourself entirely easy on that account.
I thank you, thank you, Sir, said she;--all is now as I wished.--But I am
very faint, very weak. I am sorry I cannot hold up; that I cannot better
deserve the honour of this visit--but it will not be--and saying this, she
sunk down in her chair, and was silent.
Hereupon we both withdrew, leaving word that we would be at the Bedford
Head, if any thing extraordinary happened.
We bespoke a little repast, having neither of us dined; and, while it was
getting ready, you may guess at the subject of our discourse. Both
joined in lamentation for the lady's desperate state; admired her
manifold excellencies; severely condemned you and her friends. Yet, to
bring him into better opinion of you, I read to him some passages from
your last letters, which showed your concern for the wrongs you had done
her, and your deep remorse: and he said it was a dreadful thing to labour
under the sense of a guilt so irredeemable.
We procured Mr. Goddard, (Dr. H. not being at home,) once more to visit
her, and to call upon us in his return. He was so good as to do so; but
he tarried with her not five minutes; and told us, that she was drawing
on apace; that he feared she would not live till morning; and that she
wished to see Colonel Morden directly.
The Colonel made excuses where none were needed; and though our little
refection was just brought in, he went away immediately.
I could not touch a morsel; and took pen and ink to amuse myself, and
oblige you; knowing how impatient you would be for a few lines: for, from
what I have recited, you see it was impossible I could withdraw to write
when your servant came at half an hour after five, or have an opportunity
for it till now; and this is accidental; and yet your poor fellow was
afraid to go away with the verbal message I sent; importing, as no doubt
he told you, that the Colonel was with us, the lady excessively ill, and
that I could not stir to write a line.