MY DEAR GIRL,

For so I must still call you; since dear you may be to me, in every

sense of the word--we have taken into particular consideration some

hints that fell yesterday from your good Norton, as if we had not, at

Mr. Solmes's first application, treated you with that condescension,

wherewith we have in all other instances treated you. If it even had

been so, my dear, you were not excusable to be wanting in your part,

and to set yourself to oppose your father's will in a point which he had

entered too far, to recede with honour. But all yet may be well. On your

single will, my child, depends all our happiness.

Your father permits me to tell you, that if you now at last comply with

his expectations, all past disobligations shall be buried in oblivion,

as if they had never been: but withal, that this is the last time that

that grace will be offered you.

I hinted to you, you must remember,* that patterns of the richest silks

were sent for. They are come. And as they are come, your father, to shew

how much he is determined, will have me send them up to you. I could

have wished they might not have accompanied this letter, but there is

not great matter in that. I must tell you, that your delicacy is not

quite so much regarded as I had once thought it deserved to be.

* See Letter XX.

These are the newest, as well as richest, that we could procure;

answerable to our situation in the world; answerable to the fortune,

additional to your grandfather's estate, designed you; and to the noble

settlements agreed upon.

Your father intends you six suits (three of them dressed suits) at his

own expense. You have an entire new suit; and one besides, which I think

you never wore but twice. As the new suit is rich, if you choose to

make that one of the six, your father will present you with an hundred

guineas in lieu.

Mr. Solmes intends to present you with a set of jewels. As you have your

grandmother's and your own, if you choose to have the former new set,

and to make them serve, his present will be made in money; a very round

sum--which will be given in full property to yourself; besides a fine

annual allowance for pin-money, as it is called. So that your objection

against the spirit of a man you think worse of than it deserves, will

have no weight; but you will be more independent than a wife of less

discretion than we attribute to you, perhaps ought to be. You know full

well, that I, who first and last brought a still larger fortune into the

family than you will carry to Mr. Solmes, had not a provision made me

of near this that we have made for you.--Where people marry to their

liking, terms are the least things stood upon--yet should I be sorry if

you cannot (to oblige us all) overcome a dislike.

Wonder not, Clary, that I write to you thus plainly and freely upon

this subject. Your behaviour hitherto has been such, that we have had no

opportunity of entering minutely into the subject with you. Yet, after

all that has passed between you and me in conversation, and between you

and your uncles by letter, you have no room to doubt what is to be the

consequence.--Either, child, we must give up our authority, or you your

humour. You cannot expect the one. We have all the reason in the world

to expect the other. You know I have told you more than once, that

you must resolve to have Mr. Solmes, or never to be looked upon as our

child.

The draught of the settlement you may see whenever you will. We think

there can be no room for objection to any of the articles. There is

still more in them in our family's favour, than was stipulated at first,

when your aunt talked of them to you. More so, indeed, than we

could have asked. If, upon perusal of them, you think any alteration

necessary, it shall be made.--Do, my dear girl, send to me within this

day or two, or rather ask me, for the perusal of them.

As a certain person's appearance at church so lately, and what he gives

out every where, makes us extremely uneasy, and as that uneasiness will

continue while you are single, you must not wonder that a short day

is intended. This day fortnight we design it to be, if you have no

objection to make that I shall approve of. But if you determine as we

would have you, and signify it to us, we shall not stand with you for a

week or so.

Your sightlines of person may perhaps make some think this alliance

disparaging. But I hope you will not put such a personal value upon

yourself: if you do, it will indeed be the less wonder that person

should weigh with you (however weak the consideration!) in another man.

Thus we parents, in justice, ought to judge: that our two daughters are

equally dear and valuable to us: if so, why should Clarissa think that

a disparagement, which Arabella would not (nor we for her) have thought

any, had the address been made to her?--You will know what I mean by

this, without my explaining myself farther.

Signify to us, now, therefore, your compliance with our wishes. And then

there is an end of your confinement. An act of oblivion, as I may call

it, shall pass upon all your former refractoriness: and you will once

more make us happy in you, and in one another. You may, in this case,

directly come down to your father and me, in his study; where we will

give you our opinions of the patterns, with our hearty forgiveness and

blessings.

Come, be a good child, as you used to be, my Clarissa. I have

(notwithstanding your past behaviour, and the hopelessness which some

have expressed in your compliance) undertaken this one time more for

you. Discredit not my hopes, my dear girl. I have promised never more

to interfere between your father and you, if this my most earnest

application succeed not. I expect you down, love. Your father expects

you down. But be sure don't let him see any thing uncheerful in your

compliance. If you come, I will clasp you to my fond heart, with as much

pleasure as ever I pressed you to it in my whole life. You don't know

what I have suffered within these few weeks past; nor ever will be able

to guess, till you come to be in my situation; which is that of a fond

and indulgent mother, praying night and day, and struggling to preserve,

against the attempts of more ungovernable spirits, the peace and union

of her family.

But you know the terms. Come not near us, if you have resolve to be

undutiful: but this, after what I have written, I hope you cannot be.

If you come directly, and, as I have said, cheerfully, as if your heart

were in your duty, (and you told me it was free, you know,) I shall

then, as I said, give you the most tender proofs how much I am

Your truly affectionate Mother.

***

Think for me, my dearest friend, how I must be affected by this letter;

the contents of it is so surprisingly terrifying, yet so sweetly

urged!--O why, cried I to myself, am I obliged to undergo this

severe conflict between a command that I cannot obey, and language so

condescendingly moving!--Could I have been sure of being struck dead

at the alter before the ceremony had given the man I hate a title to my

vows, I think I could have submitted to having been led to it. But to

think of living with and living for a man one abhors, what a sad thing

is that!

And then, how could the glare of habit and ornament be supposed any

inducement to one, who has always held, that the principal view of a

good wife in the adorning of her person, ought to be, to preserve the

affection of her husband, and to do credit to his choice; and that she

should be even fearful of attracting the eyes of others?--In this view,

must not the very richness of the patterns add to my disgusts?--Great

encouragement, indeed, to think of adorning one's self to be the wife of

Mr. Solmes!

Upon the whole, it was not possible for me to go down upon the

prescribed condition. Do you think it was?--And to write, if my letter

would have been read, what could I write that would be admitted, and

after what I had written and said to so little effect?

I walked backward and forward. I threw down with disdain the patterns.

Now to my closet retired I; then quitting it, threw myself upon the

settee; then upon this chair, then upon that; then into one window, then

into another--I knew not what to do!--And while I was in this suspense,

having again taken up the letter to re-peruse it, Betty came in,

reminding me, by order, that my papa and mamma waited for me in my

father's study.

Tell my mamma, said I, that I beg the favour of seeing her here for one

moment, or to permit me to attend her any where by herself.

I listened at the stairs-head--You see, my dear, how it is, cried

my father, very angrily: all your condescension (as your indulgence

heretofore) is thrown away. You blame your son's violence, as you call

it [I had some pleasure in hearing this]; but nothing else will do with

her. You shall not see her alone. Is my presence an exception to the

bold creature?

Tell her, said my mother to Betty, she knows upon what terms she may

come down to us. Nor will I see her upon any other.

The maid brought me this answer. I had recourse to my pen and ink; but

I trembled so, that I could not write, nor knew what to say, had I

steadier fingers. At last Betty brought me these lines from my father.

Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 1 · 第 172 / 196 题