You condescended, dearest creature, said he, to ask my advice. It was
very easy, give me leave to say, to advise you what to do. I hope I may,
on this new occasion, speak without offence, notwithstanding your former
injunctions--You see that there can be no hope of reconciliation with
your relations. Can you, Madam, consent to honour with your hand a
wretch whom you have never yet obliged with one voluntary favour!
What a recriminating, what a reproachful way, my dear, was this, of
putting a question of this nature!
I expected not from him, at the time, and just as I was very angry with
him, either the question or the manner. I am ashamed to recollect the
confusion I was thrown into; all your advice in my head at the moment:
yet his words so prohibitory. He confidently seemed to enjoy my
confusion [indeed, my dear, he knows not what respectful love is!] and
gazed upon me, as if he would have looked me through.
He was still more declarative afterwards, as I shall mention by-and-by:
but it was half extorted from him.
My heart struggled violently between resentment and shame, to be thus
teased by one who seemed to have all his passions at command, at a time
when I had very little over mine! till at last I burst into tears, and
was going from him in high disgust: when, throwing his arms about me,
with an air, however, the most tenderly respectful, he gave a stupid
turn to the subject.
It was far from his heart, he said, to take so much advantage of the
streight, which the discovery of my brother's foolish project had
brought me into, as to renew, without my permission, a proposal which I
had hitherto discountenanced, and which for that reason--
And then he came with his half-sentences, apologizing for what he had
not so much as half-proposed.
Surely he had not the insolence to intend to tease me, to see if I could
be brought to speak what became me not to speak. But whether he had or
not, it did tease me; insomuch that my very heart was fretted, and I
broke out, at last, into fresh tears, and a declaration that I was very
unhappy. And just then recollecting how like a tame fool I stood with
his arms about me, I flung from him with indignation. But he seized my
hand, as I was going out of the room, and upon his knees besought my
stay for one moment: and then, in words the most clear and explicit,
tendered himself to my acceptance, as the most effectual means to
disappoint my brother's scheme, and set all right.
But what could I say to this?--Extorted from him, as it seemed to me,
rather as the effect of his compassion than his love? What could I say?
I paused, I looked silly--I am sure I looked very silly. He suffered me
to pause, and look silly; waiting for me to say something: and at last
(ashamed of my confusion, and aiming to make an excuse for it) I told
him that I desired he would avoid such measures as might add to the
uneasiness which it must be visible to him I had, when he reflected upon
the irreconcilableness of my friends, and upon what might follow from
this unaccountable project of my brother.
He promised to be governed by me in every thing. And again the wretch,
instead of pressing his former question, asked me, If I forgave him for
the humble suit he had made to me? What had I to do but to try for a
palliation of my confusion, since it served me not?
I told him I had hopes it would not be long before Mr. Morden arrived;
and doubted not that that gentleman would be the readier to engage in my
favour, when he found that I made no other use of his (Mr. Lovelace's)
assistance, than to free myself from the addresses of a man so
disagreeable to me as Mr. Solmes: I must therefore wish that every thing
might remain as it was till I could hear from my cousin.
This, although teased by him as I was, was not, you see, my dear,
a denial. But he must throw himself into a heat, rather than try to
persuade; which any other man in his situation, I should think, would
have done; and this warmth obliged me to adhere to my seeming negative.
This was what he said, with a vehemence that must harden any woman's
mind, who had a spirit above being frighted into passiveness--
Good God! and will you, Madam, still resolve to show me that I am
to hope for no share in your favour, while any the remotest prospect
remains that you will be received by my bitterest enemies, at the price
of my utter rejection?
This was what I returned, with warmth, and with a salving art too--You
should have seen, Mr. Lovelace, how much my brother's violence can
affect me: but you will be mistaken if you let loose yours upon me, with
a thought of terrifying me into measures the contrary of which you have
acquiesced with.
He only besought me to suffer his future actions to speak for him; and
if I saw him worthy of any favour, that I would not let him be the only
person within my knowledge who was not entitled to my consideration.
You refer to a future time, Mr. Lovelace, so do I, for the future proof
of a merit you seem to think for the past time wanting: and justly you
think so. And I was again going from him.
One word more he begged me to hear--He was determined studiously to
avoid all mischief, and every step that might lead to mischief, let my
brother's proceedings, short of a violence upon my person, be what they
would: but if any attempt that should extend to that were to be made,
would I have had him to be a quiet spectator of my being seized, or
carried back, or on board, by this Singleton; or, in case of extremity,
was he not permitted to stand up in my defence?
Stand up in my defence, Mr. Lovelace!--I should be very miserable were
there to be a call for that. But do you think I might not be safe and
private in London? By your friend's description of the widow's house, I
should think I might be safe there.
The widow's house, he replied, as described by his friend, being a back
house within a front one, and looking to a garden, rather than to a
street, had the appearance of privacy: but if, when there, it was not
approved, it would be easy to find another more to my liking--though, as
to his part, the method he would advise should be, to write to my uncle
Harlowe, as one of my trustees, and wait the issue of it here at Mrs.
Sorlings's, fearlessly directing it to be answered hither. To be afraid
of little spirits was but to encourage insults, he said. The substance
of the letter should be, 'To demand as a right, what they would refuse
if requested as a courtesy: to acknowledge that I had put myself [too
well, he said, did their treatment justify me] into the protection of
the ladies of his family [by whose orders, and Lord M.'s, he himself
would appear to act]: but that upon my own terms, which were such, that
I was under no obligation to those ladies for the favour; it being
no more than they would have granted to any one of my sex, equally
distressed.' If I approved not of his method, happy should he think
himself, he said, if I would honour him with the opportunity of making
such a claim in his own name--but this was a point [with his but's
again in the same breath!] that he durst but just touch upon. He hoped,
however, that I would think their violence a sufficient inducement for
me to take such a wished-for resolution.
Inwardly vexed, I told him that he himself had proposed to leave me when
I was in town; that I expected he would: and that, when I was known to
be absolutely independent, I should consider what to write, and what to
do: but that while he was with me, I neither would nor could.
He would be very sincere with me, he said: this project of my brother's
had changed the face of things. He must, before he left me, see whether
I should or should not approve of the London widow and her family, if I
chose to go thither. They might be people whom my brother might buy. But
if he saw they were persons of integrity, he then might go for a day
or two, or so. But he must needs say, he could not leave me longer at a
time.
Do you propose, Sir, said I, to take up your lodgings in the house where
I shall lodge?
He did not, he said, as he knew the use I intended to make of his
absence, and my punctilio--and yet the house where he had lodgings was
new-fronting, and not in condition to receive him: but he could go to
his friend Belford's, in Soho; or perhaps he might reach to the same
gentleman's house at Edgware, over night, and return on the mornings,
till he had reason to think this wild project of my brother's laid
aside. But to no greater distance till then should he care to venture.
The result of all was, to set out on Monday next for town. I hope it
will be in a happy hour.