My mother, on her return, which was as soon as she had dined, was
pleased to inform me, that she told my father, on his questioning her
about my cheerul compliance (for, it seems, the cheerful was all that
was doubted) that she was willing, on so material a point, to give
a child whom she had so much reason to love (as she condescended to
acknowledge were her words) liberty to say all that was in her heart to
say, that her compliance might be the freer: letting him know, that
when he came up, she was attending to my pleas; for that she found I had
rather not marry at all.
She told me, that to this my father angrily said, let her take
care--let her take care--that she give me not ground to suspect her of
a preference somewhere else. But, if it be to ease her heart, and not to
dispute my will, you may hear her out.
So, Clary, said my mother, I am returned in a temper accordingly: and I
hope you will not again, by your peremptoriness, shew me how I ought to
treat you.
Indeed, Madam, you did me justice to say, I have no inclination to marry
at all. I have not, I hope, made myself so very unuseful in my papa's
family, as--
No more of your merits, Clary! You have been a good child. You have
eased me of all the family cares: but do not now give more than ever
you relieved me from. You have been amply repaid in the reputation
your skill and management have given you: but now there is soon to be a
period to all those assistances from you. If you marry, there will be
a natural, and, if to please us, a desirable period; because your own
family will employ all your talents in that way: if you do not, there
will be a period likewise, but not a natural one--you understand me,
child.