An angry dialogue, a scolding-bout rather, has passed between my sister
and me. Did you think I could scold, my dear?
She was sent up to me, upon my refusal to see Mr. Solmes--let loose
upon me, I think!--No intention on their parts to conciliate! It seems
evident that I am given up to my brother and her, by general consent.
I will do justice to every thing she said against me, which carried any
force with it. As I ask for your approbation or disapprobation of my
conduct, upon the facts I lay before you, I should think it the sign of
a very bad cause, if I endeavoured to mislead my judge.
She began with representing to me the danger I had been in, had my
father come up, as he would have done had he not been hindered--by
Mr. Solmes, among the rest. She reflected upon my Norton, as if she
encouraged me in my perverseness. She ridiculed me for my supposed
esteem for Mr. Lovelace--was surprised that the witty, the prudent, nay,
the dutiful and pi--ous [so she sneeringly pronounced the word] Clarissa
Harlowe, should be so strangely fond of a profligate man, that her
parents were forced to lock her up, in order to hinder her from running
into his arms. 'Let me ask you, my dear, said she, how you now keep
your account of the disposition of your time? How many hours in the
twenty-four do you devote to your needle? How many to your prayers?
How many to letter-writing? And how many to love?--I doubt, I doubt, my
little dear, was her arch expression, the latter article is like Aaron's
rod, and swallows up the rest!--Tell me; is it not so?'
To these I answered, That it was a double mortification to me to owe
my safety from the effects of my father's indignation to a man I could
never thank for any thing. I vindicated the good Mrs. Norton with a
warmth that was due to her merit. With equal warmth I resented her
reflections upon me on Mr. Lovelace's account. As to the disposition of
my time in the twenty-four hours, I told her it would better have become
her to pity a sister in distress, than to exult over her--especially,
when I could too justly attribute to the disposition of some of her
wakeful hours no small part of that distress.
She raved extremely at this last hint: but reminded me of the gentle
treatment of all my friends, my mother's in particular, before it
came to this. She said, that I had discovered a spirit they never had
expected: that, if they had thought me such a championess, they would
hardly have ventured to engage with me: but that now, the short and the
long of it was, that the matter had gone too far to be given up: that it
was become a contention between duty and willfulness; whether a parent's
authority were to yield to a daughter's obstinacy, or the contrary: that
I must therefore bend or break, that was all, child.
I told her, that I wished the subject were of such a nature, that I
could return her pleasantry with equal lightness of heart: but that, if
Mr. Solmes had such merit in every body's eyes, in hers, particularly,
why might he not be a brother to me, rather than a husband?
O child, says she, methinks you are as pleasant to the full as I am:
I begin to have some hopes of you now. But do you think I will rob my
sister of her humble servant? Had he first addressed himself to me,
proceeded she, something might have been said: but to take my younger
sister's refusal! No, no, child; it is not come to that neither!
Besides, that would be to leave the door open in your heart for you know
who, child; and we would fain bar him out, if possible. In short [and
then she changed both her tone and her looks] had I been as forward
as somebody, to throw myself into the arms of one of the greatest
profligates in England, who had endeavoured to support his claim to me
through the blood of my brother, then might all my family join together
to save me from such a wretch, and to marry me as fast as they could,
to some worthy man, who might opportunely offer himself. And now, Clary,
all's out, and make the most of it.
Did not this deserve a severe return? Do, say it did, to justify my
reply.--Alas! for my poor sister! said I--The man was not always so
great a profligate. How true is the observation, That unrequited love
turns to deepest hate!
I thought she would beat me. But I proceeded--I have heard often of my
brother's danger, and my brother's murderer. When so little ceremony is
made with me, why should I not speak out?--Did he not seek to kill the
other, if he could have done it? Would my brother have given Lovelace
his life, had it been in his power?--The aggressor should not
complain.--And, as to opportune offers, would to Heaven some one
had offered opportunely to somebody! It is not my fault, Bella, the
opportune gentleman don't come!
Could you, my dear, have shewn more spirit? I expected to feel the
weight of her hand. She did come up to me, with it held up: then,
speechless with passion, ran half way down the stairs, and came up
again.
When she could speak--God give me patience with you!
Amen, said I: but you see, Bella, how ill you bear the retort you
provoke. Will you forgive me; and let me find a sister in you, as I am
sorry, if you had reason to think me unsisterly in what I have said?
Then did she pour upon me, with greater violence; considering my
gentleness as a triumph of temper over her. She was resolved, she said,
to let every body know how I took the wicked Lovelace's part against my
brother.
I wished, I told her, I could make the plea for myself, which she
might for herself; to wit, that my anger was more inexcusable than my
judgment. But I presumed she had some other view in coming to me, than
she had hitherto acquainted me with. Let me, said I, but know (after
all that has passed) if you have any thing to propose that I can comply
with; any thing that can make my only sister once more my friend?
I had before, upon hearing her ridiculing me on my supposed character of
meekness, said, that, although I wished to be thought meek, I would not
be abject; although humble not mean: and here, in a sneering way, she
cautioned me on that head.
I replied, that her pleasantry was much more agreeable than her anger.
But I wished she would let me know the end of a visit that had hitherto
(between us) been so unsisterly.
She desired to be informed, in the name of every body, was her word,
what I was determined upon? And whether to comply or not?--One word for
all: My friends were not to have patience with so perverse a creature
for ever.
This then I told her I would do: Absolutely break with the man they were
all so determined against: upon condition, however, that neither Mr.
Solmes, nor any other, were urged upon me with the force of a command.
And what was this, more than I had offered before? What, but ringing
my changes upon the same bells, and neither receding nor advancing one
tittle?
If I knew what other proposals I could make, I told her, that would
be acceptable to them all, and free me from the address of a man so
disagreeable to me, I would make them. I had indeed before offered,
never to marry without my father's consent--
She interrupted me, That was because I depended upon my whining tricks
to bring my father and mother to what I pleased.
A poor dependence! I said:--She knew those who would make that
dependence vain--
And I should have brought them to my own beck, very probably, and my
uncle Harlowe too, as also my aunt Hervey, had I not been forbidden from
their sight, and thereby hindered from playing my pug's tricks before
them.
At least, Bella, said I, you have hinted to me to whom I am obliged,
that my father and mother, and every body else, treat me thus harshly.
But surely you make them all very weak. Indifferent persons, judging of
us two from what you say, would either think me a very artful creature,
or you a very spiteful one--
You are indeed a very artful one, for that matter, interrupted she in
a passion: one of the artfullest I ever knew! And then followed an
accusation so low! so unsisterly!--That I half-bewitched people by my
insinuating address: that nobody could be valued or respected, but must
stand like ciphers wherever I came. How often, said she, have I and my
brother been talking upon a subject, and had every body's attention,
till you came in, with your bewitching meek pride, and humble
significance? And then have we either been stopped by references to Miss
Clary's opinion, forsooth; or been forced to stop ourselves, or must
have talked on unattended to by every body.
She paused. Dear Bella, proceed!
She indeed seemed only gathering breath.
And so I will, said she--Did you not bewitch my grandfather? Could any
thing be pleasing to him, that you did not say or do? How did he use
to hang, till he slabbered again, poor doting old man! on your silver
tongue! Yet what did you say, that we could not have said? What did you
do, that we did not endeavour to do?--And what was all this for? Why,
truly, his last will shewed what effect your smooth obligingness had
upon him!--To leave the acquired part of his estate from the next heirs,
his own sons, to a grandchild; to his youngest grandchild! A daughter
too!--To leave the family-pictures from his sons to you, because you
could tiddle about them, and, though you now neglect their examples,
could wipe and clean them with your dainty hands! The family-plate too,
in such quantities, of two or three generations standing, must not be
changed, because his precious child,* humouring his old fal-lal taste,
admired it, to make it all her own.
* Alluding to his words in the preamble to the clauses in
his will. See Letter IV.
This was too low to move me: O my poor sister! said I: not to be able,
or at least willing, to distinguish between art and nature! If I did
oblige, I was happy in it: I looked for no further reward: my mind is
above art, from the dirty motives you mention. I wish with all my heart
my grandfather had not thus distinguished me; he saw my brother likely
to be amply provided for out of the family, as well as in it: he desired
that you might have the greater share of my father's favour for it;
and no doubt but you both have. You know, Bella, that the estate my
grandfather bequeathed me was not half the real estate he left.
What's all that to an estate in possession, and left you with such
distinctions, as gave you a reputation of greater value than the estate
itself?
Hence my misfortune, Bella, in your envy, I doubt!--But have I not given
up that possession in the best manner I could--
Yes, interrupting me, she hated me for that best manner. Specious little
witch! she called me: your best manner, so full of art and design, had
never been seen through, if you, with your blandishing ways, have not
been put out of sight, and reduced to positive declarations!--Hindered
from playing your little declarations!--Hindered from playing your
little whining tricks! curling, like a serpent about your mamma; and
making her cry to deny you any thing your little obstinate heart was set
upon--!
Obstinate heart, Bella!
Yes, obstinate heart! For did you ever give up any thing? Had you not
the art to make them think all was right you asked, though my brother
and I were frequently refused favours of no greater import!
I know not, Bella, that I ever asked any thing unfit to be granted. I
seldom asked favours for myself, but for others.