Hear me out, my dearest creature--you have received with favour, my
addresses: you have made me hope for the honour of your consenting hand:
yet, by declining my most fervent tender of myself to you at Mrs.
Sorlings's, have given me apprehensions of delay: I would not for the
world be thought so ungenerous a wretch, now you have honoured me with
your confidence, as to wish to precipitate you. Yet your brother's
schemes are not given up. Singleton, I am afraid, is actually in town;
his vessel lies at Rotherhithe--your brother is absent from Harlowe-
place; indeed not with Singleton yet, as I can hear. If you are known
to be mine, or if you are but thought to be so, there will probably be an
end of your brother's contrivances. The widow's character may be as
worthy as it is said to be. But the worthier she is, the more danger,
if your brother's agent should find us out; since she may be persuaded,
that she ought in conscience to take a parent's part against a child who
stands in opposition to them. But if she believes us married, her good
character will stand us instead, and give her a reason why two apartments
are requisite for us at the hour of retirement.
I perfectly raved at him. I would have flung from him in resentment; but
he would not let me: and what could I do? Whither go, the evening
advanced?
I am astonished at you! said I.--If you are a man of honour, what need of
all this strange obliquity? You delight in crooked ways--let me know,
since I must stay in your company (for he held my hand), let me know all
you have said to the people below.--Indeed, indeed, Mr. Lovelace, you are
a very unaccountable man.
My dearest creature, need I to have mentioned any thing of this? and
could I not have taken up my lodgings in this house unknown to you, if I
had not intended to make you the judge of all my proceedings?--But this
is what I have told the widow before her kinswomen, and before your new
servant--'That indeed we were privately married at Hertford; but that you
had preliminarily bound me under a solemn vow, which I am most
religiously resolved to keep, to be contented with separate apartments,
and even not to lodge under the same roof, till a certain reconciliation
shall take place, which is of high consequence to both.' And further
that I might convince you of the purity of my intentions, and that my
whole view in this was to prevent mischief, I have acquainted them, 'that
I have solemnly promised to behave to you before every body, as if we
were only betrothed, and not married; not even offering to take any of
those innocent freedoms which are not refused in the most punctilious
loves.'
And then he solemnly vowed to me the strictest observance of the same
respectful behaviour to me.
I said, that I was not by any means satisfied with the tale he had told,
nor with the necessity he wanted to lay me under of appearing what I was
not: that every step he took was a wry one, a needless wry one: and since
he thought it necessary to tell the people below any thing about me, I
insisted that he should unsay all he had said, and tell them the truth.
What he had told them, he said, was with so many circumstances, that he
could sooner die than contradict it. And still he insisted upon the
propriety of appearing to be married, for the reasons he had given
before--And, dearest creature, said he, why this high displeasure with
me upon so well-intended an expedient? You know, that I cannot wish to
shun your brother, or his Singleton, but upon your account. The first
step I would take, if left to myself, would be to find them out. I have
always acted in this manner, when any body has presumed to give out
threatenings against it.
'Tis true I would have consulted you first, and had your leave. But
since you dislike what I have said, let me implore you, dearest Madam,
to give the only proper sanction to it, by naming an early day. Would to
Heaven that were to be to-morrow!--For God's sake, let it be to-morrow!
But, if not, [was it his business, my dear, before I spoke (yet he seemed
to be afraid of me) to say, if not?] let me beseech you, Madam, if my
behaviour shall not be to your dislike, that you will not to-morrow, at
breakfast-time, discredit what I have told them. The moment I give you
cause to think that I take any advantage of your concession, that moment
revoke it, and expose me, as I shall deserve.--And once more, let me
remind you, that I have no view either to serve or save myself by this
expedient. It is only to prevent a probable mischief, for your own
mind's sake; and for the sake of those who deserve not the least
consideration from me.
What could I say? What could I do?--I verily think, that had he urged me
again, in a proper manner, I should have consented (little satisfied as I
am with him) to give him a meeting to-morrow morning at a more solemn
place than in the parlour below.
But this I resolve, that he shall not have my consent to stay a night
under this roof. He has now given me a stronger reason for this
determination than I had before.
***
Alas! my dear, how vain a thing to say, what we will, or what we will not
do, when we have put ourselves into the power of this sex!--He went down
to the people below, on my desiring to be left to myself; and staid till
their supper was just ready; and then, desiring a moment's audience, as
he called it, he besought my leave to stay that one night, promising to
set out either for Lord M.'s, or for Edgeware, to his friend Belford's,
in the morning, after breakfast. But if I were against it, he said, he
would not stay supper; and would attend me about eight next day--yet he
added, that my denial would have a very particular appearance to the
people below, from what he had told them; and the more, as he had
actually agreed for all the vacant apartments, (indeed only for a month,)
for the reasons he before hinted at: but I need not stay here two days,
if, upon conversing with the widow and her nieces in the morning, I
should have any dislike to them.
I thought, notwithstanding my resolution above-mentioned, that it would
seem too punctilious to deny him, under the circumstances he had
mentioned: having, besides, no reason to think he would obey me; for he
looked as if he were determined to debate the matter with me. And now,
as I see no likelihood of a reconciliation with my friends, and as I have
actually received his addresses, I thought I would not quarrel with him,
if I could help it, especially as he asked to stay but for one night, and
could have done so without my knowing it; and you being of opinion, that
the proud wretch, distrusting his own merits with me, or at least my
regard for him, will probably bring me to some concessions in his favour
--for all these reasons, I thought proper to yield this point: yet I was
so vexed with him on the other, that it was impossible for me to comply
with that grace which a concession should be made with, or not made at
all.
This was what I said--What you will do, you must do, I think. You are
very ready to promise; very ready to depart from your promise. You say,
however, that you will set out to-morrow for the country. You know how
ill I have been. I am not well enough now to debate with you upon your
encroaching ways. I am utterly dissatisfied with the tale you have told
below. Nor will I promise to appear to the people of the house to-morrow
what I am not.
He withdrew in the most respectful manner, beseeching me only to favour
him with such a meeting in the morning as might not make the widow and
her nieces think he had given me reason to be offended with him.
I retired to my own apartment, and Dorcas came to me soon after to take
my commands. I told her, that I required very little attendance, and
always dressed and undressed myself.
She seemed concerned, as if she thought I had repulsed her; and said, it
should be her whole study to oblige me.
I told her, that I was not difficult to be pleased: and should let her
know from time to time what assistance I should expect from her. But for
that night I had no occasion for her further attendance.
She is not only genteel, but is well bred, and well spoken--she must have
had what is generally thought to be the polite part of education: but it
is strange, that fathers and mothers should make so light, as they
generally do, of that preferable part, in girls, which would improve
their minds, and give a grace to all the rest.
As soon as she was gone, I inspected the doors, the windows, the
wainscot, the dark closet as well as the light one; and finding very good
fastenings to the door, and to all the windows, I again had recourse to
my pen.
***
Mrs. Sinclair is just now gone from me. Dorcas, she told me, had
acquainted her, that I had dismissed her for the night. She came to ask
me how I liked my apartment, and to wish me good rest. She expressed her
concern, that they could not have my company at supper. Mr. Lovelace,
she said, had informed them of my love of retirement. She assured me,
that I should not be broken in upon. She highly extolled him, and gave
me a share in the praise as to person. But was sorry, she said, that she
was likely to lose us so soon as Mr. Lovelace talked of.
I answered her with suitable civility; and she withdrew with great tokens
of respect. With greater, I think, than should be from distance of
years, as she was the wife of a gentleman; and as the appearance of every
thing about her, as well house as dress, carries the marks of such good
circumstances, as require not abasement.
If, my dear, you will write, against prohibition, be pleased to direct,
To Miss Laetitia Beaumont; to be left till called for, at Mr. Wilson's,
in Pall Mall.
Mr. Lovelace proposed this direction to me, not knowing of your desire
that your letters should pass by a third hand. As his motive for it was,
that my brother might not trace out where we are, I am glad, as well from
this instance as from others, that he seems to think he has done mischief
enough already.
Do you know how my poor Hannah does?
Mr. Lovelace is so full of his contrivances and expedients, that I think
it may not be amiss to desire you to look carefully to the seals of my
letters, as I shall to those of yours. If I find him base in this
particular, I shall think him capable of any evil; and will fly him as my
worst enemy.