MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE [AFTER HER RETURN FROM HER.]
HARLOWE-PLACE, FEB. 20.
I beg your excuse for not writing sooner. Alas! my dear, I have sad
prospects before me! My brother and sister have succeeded in all their
views. They have found out another lover for me; an hideous one!--Yet
he is encouraged by every body. No wonder that I was ordered home so
suddenly. At an hour's warning!--No other notice, you know, than what
was brought with the chariot that was to carry me back.--It was for
fear, as I have been informed [an unworthy fear!] that I should have
entered into any concert with Mr. Lovelace had I known their motive for
commanding me home; apprehending, 'tis evident, that I should dislike
the man they had to propose to me.
And well might they apprehend so:--For who do you think he is?--No
other than that Solmes--Could you have believed it?--And they are all
determined too; my mother with the rest!--Dear, dear excellence! how
could she be thus brought over, when I am assured, that on his first
being proposed she was pleased to say, That had Mr. Solmes the Indies
in possession, and would endow me with them, she should not think him
deserving of her Clarissa!
The reception I met with at my return, so different from what I used to
meet with on every little absence [and now I had been from them three
weeks], convinced me that I was to suffer for the happiness I had had
in your company and conversation for that most agreeable period. I will
give you an account of it.
My brother met me at the door, and gave me his hand when I stepped out
of the chariot. He bowed very low: pray, Miss, favour me.--I thought it
in good humour; but found it afterwards mock respect: and so he led
me in great form, I prattling all the way, inquiring of every body's
health, (although I was so soon to see them, and there was hardly time
for answers,) into the great parlour; where were my father, mother, my
two uncles, and sister.
I was struck all of a heap as soon as I entered, to see a solemnity
which I had been so little used to on the like occasions in the
countenance of every dear relation. They all kept their seats. I ran
to my father, and kneeled: then to my mother: and met from both a cold
salute: From my father a blessing but half pronounced: My mother indeed
called me child; but embraced me not with her usual indulgent ardour.
After I had paid my duty to my uncles, and my compliments to my sister,
which she received with solemn and stiff form, I was bid to sit down.
But my heart was full: and I said it became me to stand, if I could
stand, upon a reception so awful and unusual. I was forced to turn my
face from them, and pull out my handkerchief.
My unbrotherly accuser hereupon stood forth, and charged me with having
received no less than five or six visits at Miss Howe's from the
man they had all so much reason to hate [that was the expression];
notwithstanding the commands I had had to the contrary. And he bid me
deny it if I could.
I had never been used, I said, to deny the truth, nor would I now. I
owned I had in the three weeks passed seen the person I presumed he
meant oftener than five or six times [Pray hear me, brother, said I; for
he was going to flame out], but he always asked for Mrs. or Miss Howe,
when he came.
I proceeded, that I had reason to believe, that both Mrs. Howe and Miss,
as matters stood, would much rather have excused his visits; but they
had more than once apologized, that having not the same reason my papa
had to forbid him their house, his rank and fortune entitled him to
civility.
You see, my dear, I made not the pleas I might have made.
My brother seemed ready to give a loose to his passion: My father put
on the countenance which always portends a gathering storm: My uncles
mutteringly whispered: And my sister aggravatingly held up her hands.
While I begged to be heard out:--And my mother said, let the child, that
was her kind word, be heard.
I hoped, I said, there was no harm done: that it became not me to
prescribe to Mrs. or Miss Howe who should be their visitors: that Mrs.
Howe was always diverted with the raillery that passed between Miss and
him: that I had no reason to challenge her guest for my visitor, as I
should seem to have done had I refused to go into their company when he
was with them: that I had never seen him out of the presence of one or
both of those ladies; and had signified to him once, on his urging a
few moments' private conversation with me, that, unless a reconciliation
were effected between my family and his, he must not expect that I would
countenance his visits, much less give him an opportunity of that sort.
I told him further, that Miss Howe so well understood my mind, that she
never left me a moment while Mr. Lovelace was there: that when he came,
if I was not below in the parlour, I would not suffer myself to be
called to him: although I thought it would be an affectation which would
give him an advantage rather than the contrary, if I had left company
when he came in; or refused to enter into it when I found he would stay
any time.
My brother heard me out with such a kind of impatience as shewed he was
resolved to be dissatisfied with me, say what I would. The rest, as the
event has proved, behaved as if they would have been satisfied, had
they not further points to carry by intimidating me. All this made it
evident, as I mentioned above, that they themselves expected not my
voluntary compliance; and was a tacit confession of the disagreeableness
of the person they had to propose.
I was no sooner silent than my brother swore, although in my father's
presence, (swore, unchecked either by eye or countenance,) That for his
part, he would never be reconciled to that libertine: and that he would
renounce me for a sister, if I encouraged the addresses of a man so
obnoxious to them all.
A man who had like to have been my brother's murderer, my sister said,
with a face even bursting with restraint of passion.
The poor Bella has, you know, a plump high-fed face, if I may be allowed
the expression. You, I know, will forgive me for this liberty of speech
sooner than I can forgive myself: Yet how can one be such a reptile as
not to turn when trampled upon!
My father, with vehemence both of action and voice [my father has, you
know, a terrible voice when he is angry] told me that I had met with too
much indulgence in being allowed to refuse this gentleman, and the other
gentleman,; and it was now his turn to be obeyed!
Very true, my mother said:--and hoped his will would not now be disputed
by a child so favoured.
To shew they were all of a sentiment, my uncle Harlowe said, he hoped
his beloved niece only wanted to know her father's will, to obey it.
And my uncle Antony, in his rougher manner, added, that surely I would
not give them reason to apprehend, that I thought my grandfather's
favour to me had made me independent of them all.--If I did, he would
tell me, the will could be set aside, and should.
I was astonished, you must needs think.--Whose addresses now, thought I,
is this treatment preparative to?--Mr. Wyerley's again?--or whose? And
then, as high comparisons, where self is concerned, sooner than low,
come into young people's heads; be it for whom it will, this is wooing
as the English did for the heiress of Scotland in the time of Edward
the Sixth. But that it could be for Solmes, how should it enter into my
head?
I did not know, I said, that I had given occasion for this harshness.
I hoped I should always have a just sense of every one's favour to me,
superadded to the duty I owed as a daughter and a niece: but that I was
so much surprised at a reception so unusual and unexpected, that I hoped
my papa and mamma would give me leave to retire, in order to recollect
myself.
No one gainsaying, I made my silent compliments, and withdrew;--leaving
my brother and sister, as I thought, pleased; and as if they wanted to
congratulate each other on having occasioned so severe a beginning to be
made with me.
I went up to my chamber, and there with my faithful Hannah deplored the
determined face which the new proposal it was plain they had to make me
wore.
I had not recovered myself when I was sent for down to tea. I begged
my maid to be excused attending; but on the repeated command, went down
with as much cheerfulness as I could assume; and had a new fault to
clear myself of: for my brother, so pregnant a thing is determined
ill-will, by intimations equally rude and intelligible, charged my
desire of being excused coming down, to sullens, because a certain
person had been spoken against, upon whom, as he supposed, my fancy ran.
I could easily answer you, Sir, said I, as such a reflection deserves:
but I forbear. If I do not find a brother in you, you shall have a
sister in me.
Pretty meekness! Bella whisperingly said; looking at my brother, and
lifting up her lip in contempt.
He, with an imperious air, bid me deserve his love, and I should be sure
to have it.
As we sat, my mother, in her admirable manner, expatiated upon brotherly
and sisterly love; indulgently blamed my brother and sister for having
taken up displeasure too lightly against me; and politically, if I may
say so, answered for my obedience to my father's will.--The it would be
all well, my father was pleased to say: Then they should dote upon me,
was my brother's expression: Love me as well as ever, was my sister's:
And my uncles, That I then should be the pride of their hearts.--But,
alas! what a forfeiture of all these must I make!
This was the reception I had on my return from you.
Mr. Solmes came in before we had done tea. My uncle Antony presented
him to me, as a gentleman he had a particular friendship for. My uncle
Harlowe in terms equally favourable for him. My father said, Mr. Solmes
is my friend, Clarissa Harlowe. My mother looked at him, and looked at
me, now-and-then, as he sat near me, I thought with concern.--I at her,
with eyes appealing for pity. At him, when I could glance at him, with
disgust little short of affrightment. While my brother and sister Mr.
Solmes'd him, and Sirr'd--yet such a wretch!--But I will at present only
add, My humble thanks and duty to your honoured mother (to whom I will
particularly write, to express the grateful sense I have of her goodness
to me); and that I am
Your ever obliged, CL. HARLOWE.