Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady Volume V Part 22

A letter from Miss Howe to her cruel friend!--

I made no scruple to open it.

It is a miracle that I fell not into fits at the reading of it; and at the thought of what might have been the consequence, had it come into the hands of this Clarissa Harlowe. Let my justly-excited rage excuse my irreverence.

Collins, though not his day, brought it this afternoon to Wilson's, with a particular desire that it might be sent with all speed to Miss Beaumont's lodgings, and given, if possible, into her own hands. He had before been here (at Mrs. Sinclair's with intent to deliver it to the lady with his own hand; but was told [too truly told!] that she was abroad; but that they would give her any thing he should leave for her the moment she returned.) But he cared not to trust them with his business, and went away to Wilson's, (as I find by the description of him at both places,) and there left the letter; but not till he had a second time called here, and found her not come in.

The letter [which I shall enclose; for it is too long to transcribe] will account to thee for Collins's coming hither.

O this devilish Miss Howe;--something must be resolved upon and done with that little fury!

Thou wilt see the margin of this cursed letter crowded with indices [>>>]. I put them to mark the places which call for vengeance upon the vixen writer, or which require animadversion. Return thou it to me the moment thou hast perused it.

Read it here; and avoid trembling for me, if thou canst.

TO MISS LAEt.i.tIA BEAUMONT WEDNESDAY, JUNE 7.

MY DEAREST FRIEND,

You will perhaps think that I have been too long silent. But I had begun two letters at differ- ent times since my last, and written a great deal >>> each time; and with spirit enough, I a.s.sure you; incensed as I was against the abominable wretch you are with; particularly on reading your's of the 21st of the past month.*

* See Vol. IV. Letter XLVI.

>>> The first I intended to keep open till I could give you some account of my proceedings with Mrs.

Townsend. It was some days before I saw her: and this intervenient s.p.a.ce giving me time to re- peruse what I had written, I thought it proper to lay >>> that aside, and to write in a style a little less fervent; >>> for you would have blamed me, I know, for the free- dom of some of my expressions. [Execrations, if you please.] And when I had gone a good way in the second, the change in your prospects, on his communicating to you Miss Montague's letter, and his better behaviour, occasioning a change in your mind, I laid that aside also. And in this uncer- tainty, thought I would wait to see the issue of affairs between you before I wrote again; believing that all would soon be decided one way or other.

I had still, perhaps, held this resolution, [as every appearance, according to your letters, was more and more promising,] had not the two pa.s.sed days fur- nished me with intelligence which it highly imports you to know.

But I must stop here, and take a little walk, to try to keep down that just indignation which rises to my pen, when I am about to relate to you what I must communicate.

I am not my own mistress enough--then my mother--always up and down--and watching as if I were writing to a fellow. But I will try if I can contain myself in tolerable bounds.

The women of the house where you are--O my dear, the women of the house--but you never thought highly of them--so it cannot be very sur- >>> prising--nor would you have staid so long with them, had not the notion of removing to one of your own, made you less uneasy, and less curious about their characters, and behaviour. Yet I could now wish, that you had been less reserved among them >>> --But I tease you--In short, my dear, you are certainly in a devilish house!--Be a.s.sured that the woman is one of the vilest women--nor does she go to you by her right name--[Very true!]-- Her name is not Sinclair, nor is the street she lives in Dover-street. Did you never go out by your- self, and discharge the coach or chair, and return >>> by another coach or chair? If you did, [yet I don't remember that you ever wrote to me, that you did,] you would never have found your way to the vile house, either by the woman's name, Sin- clair, or by the street's name, mentioned by that Doleman in his letter about the lodgings.*

* Vol. III. Letters x.x.xVIII. and x.x.xIX.

The wretch might indeed have held out these false lights a little more excusably, had the house been an honest house; and had his end only been to prevent mischief from your brother. But this contrivance was antecedent, as I think, to your brother's project; so that no excuse can be made >>> for his intentions at the time--the man, whatever he may now intend, was certainly then, even then, a villain in his heart.

>>> I am excessively concerned that I should be pre- vailed upon, between your over-niceness, on one hand, and my mother's positiveness, on the other, to be satisfied without knowing how to direct to you at your lodgings. I think too, that the proposal that I should be put off to a third-hand knowledge, or rather veiled in a first-hand ignorance, came from him, and that it was only acquiesced in by you, as it was by me,* upon needless and weak considera- tions; because, truly, I might have it to say, if challenged, that I knew not where to send to you!

I am ashamed of myself!--Had this been at first excusable, it could not be a good reason for going on in the folly, when you had no liking to the >>> house, and when he began to play tricks, and delay with you.--What! I was to mistrust myself, was I? I was to allow it to be thought, that I could >>> not keep my own secret?--But the house to be >>> taken at this time, and at that time, led us both on >>> --like fools, like tame fools, in a string. Upon my life, my dear, this man is a vile, a contemptible villain--I must speak out!--How has he laughed in his sleeve at us both, I warrant, for I can't tell how long!

* See Vol. III. Letter LVI. par. 12. and Letter LVIII. par. 12.--Where the reader will observe, that the proposal came from herself; which, as it was also mentioned by Mr. Lovelace, (towards the end of Letter I. in Vol. IV.) she may be presumed to have forgotten. So that Clarissa had a double inducement for acquiescing with the proposed method of carrying on the correspondence between Miss Howe and herself by Wilson's conveyance, and by the name of Laet.i.tia Beaumont.

And yet who could have thought that a man of >>> fortune, and some reputation, [this Doleman, I mean--not your wretch, to be sure!] formerly a rake, indeed, [I inquired after him long ago; and so was the easier satisfied;] but married to a woman of family--having had a palsy-blow--and, >>> one would think, a penitent, should recommend such a house [why, my dear, he could not inquire of it, but must find it to be bad] to such a man as Lovelace, to bring his future, nay, his then supposed, bride to?

>>> I write, perhaps, with too much violence, to be clear, but I cannot help it. Yet I lay down my pen, and take it up every ten minutes, in order to write with some temper--my mother too, in and out--What need I, (she asks me,) lock myself in, if I am only reading past correspondencies? For >>> that is my pretence, when she comes poking in with her face sharpened to an edge, as I may say, by a curiosity that gives her more pain than pleasure.-- >>> The Lord forgive me; but I believe I shall huff her next time she comes in.

Do you forgive me too, my dear--my mother ought; because she says, I am my father's girl; and because I am sure I am her's. I don't kow what to do--I don't know what to write next--I have so much to write, yet have so little patience, and so little opportunity.

But I will tell you how I came by my intelli- >>> gence. That being a fact, and requiring the less attention, I will try to account to you for that.

Thus, then, it came about: 'Miss Lardner (whom you have seen at her cousin Biddulph's) saw you at St. James's Church on Sunday was fort- night. She kept you in her eye during the whole time; but could not once obtain the notice of your's, though she courtesied to you twice. She thought to pay her compliments to you when the service was over, for she doubted not but you were married-- >>> and for an odd reason--because you came to church by yourself. Every eye, (as usual, wherever you are, she said,) was upon you; and this seeming to give you hurry, and you being nearer the door than she, you slid out, before she could get to you.--But she ordered her servant to follow you till you were housed. This servant saw you step into a chair, which waited for you; and you ordered the men to carry you to the place where they took you up.

'The next day, Miss Lardner sent the same servant, out of mere curiosity, to make private in- quiry whether Mr. Lovelace were, or were not, with you there.--And this inquiry brought out, >>> from different people, that the house was suspected to be one of those genteel wicked houses, which receive and accommodate fashionable people of both s.e.xes.

'Miss Lardner, confounded at this strange intel- ligence, made further inquiry; enjoining secrecy to the servant she had sent, as well as to the gentle- >>> man whom she employed; who had it confirmed from a rakish friend, who knew the house; and told him, that there were two houses: the one in which all decent appearances were preserved, and guests rarely admitted; the other, the receptacle of those who were absolutely engaged, and broken to the vile yoke.'

>>> Say--my dear creature--say--Shall I not exe- crate the wretch?--But words are weak--What can I say, that will suitably express my abhorrence of such a villain as he must have been, when he meditated to carry a Clarissa to such a place!

'Miss Lardner kept this to herself some days, not knowing what to do; for she loves you, and admires you of all women. At last she revealed it, but in confidence, to Miss Biddulph, by letter.

Miss Biddulph, in like confidence, being afraid it would distract me, were I to know it, communi- cated it to Miss Lloyd; and so, like a whispered scandal, it pa.s.sed through several ca.n.a.ls, and then it came to me; which was not till last Monday.'

I thought I should have fainted upon the surpris- ing communication. But rage taking place, it blew away the sudden illness. I besought Miss Lloyd to re-enjoin secrecy to every one. I told her that >>> I would not for the world that my mother, or any of your family, should know it. And I instantly caused a trusty friend to make what inquiries he could about Tomlinson.

>>> I had thoughts to have done it before I had this intelligence: but not imagining it to be needful, and little thinking that you could be in such a house, and as you were pleased with your changed prospects, I >>> forbore. And the rather forbore, as the matter is so laid, that Mrs. Hodges is supposed to know nothing of the projected treaty of accommodation; but, on the contrary, that it was designed to be a secret to her, and to every body but immediate parties; and it was Mrs. Hodges that I had pro- posed to sound by a second hand.

>>> Now, my dear, it is certain, without applying to that too-much-favoured housekeeper, that there is not such a man within ten miles of your uncle.-- Very true!--One Tomkins there is, about four miles off; but he is a day-labourer: and one Thompson, about five miles distant the other way; but he is a parish schoolmaster, poor, and about seventy.

>>> A man, thought but of .800 a year, cannot come from one country to settle in another, but every body in both must know it, and talk of it.

>>> Mrs. Hodges may yet be sounded at a distance, if you will. Your uncle is an old man. Old men imagine themselves under obligation to their para- >>> mours, if younger than themselves, and seldom keep any thing from their knowledge. But if we suppose him to make secret of this designed treaty, it is impossible, before that treaty was thought of, but she must have seen him, at least have heard your uncle speak praisefully of a man he is said to be so intimate with, let him have been ever so little a while in those parts.