Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady Volume VI Part 9

Hadst thou seen how they paraded it--Cousin, and Cousin, and Nephew, at every word; Lady Betty bridling and looking haughtily-condescending.-- Charlotte galanting her fan, and swimming over the floor without touching it.

How I long to see my niece-elect! cries one--for they are told that we are not married; and are pleased that I have not put the slight upon them that they had apprehended from me.

How I long to see my dear cousin that is to be, the other!

Your La'ship, and your La'ship, and an awkward courtesy at every address --prim Susan Morrison.

Top your parts, ye villains!--You know how nicely I distinguish. There will be no pa.s.sion in this case to blind the judgment, and to help on meditated delusion, as when you engage with t.i.tled sinners. My charmer is as cool and as distinguishing, though not quite so learned in her own s.e.x, as I am. Your commonly-a.s.sumed dignity won't do for me now. Airs of superiority, as if born to rank.--But no over-do!--Doubting nothing.

Let not your faces arraign your hearts.

Easy and unaffected!--Your very dresses will give you pride enough.

A little graver, Lady Betty.--More significance, less bridling in your dignity.

That's the air! Charmingly hit----Again----You have it.

Devil take you!--Less arrogance. You are got into airs of young quality.

Be less sensible of your new condition. People born to dignity command respect without needing to require it.

Now for your part, Cousin Charlotte!--

Pretty well. But a little too frolicky that air.--Yet have I prepared my beloved to expect in you both great vivacity and quality-freedom.

Curse those eyes!--Those glancings will never do. A down-cast bashful turn, if you can command it. Look upon me. Suppose me now to be my beloved.

Devil take that leer. Too significantly arch!--Once I knew you the girl I would now have you to be.

Sprightly, but not confident, cousin Charlotte!--Be sure forget not to look down, or aside, when looked at. When eyes meet eyes, be your's the retreating ones. Your face will bear examination.

O Lord! Lord! that so young a creature can so soon forget the innocent appearance she first charmed by; and which I thought born with you all!-- Five years to ruin what twenty had been building up! How natural the latter lesson! How difficult to regain the former!

A stranger, as I hope to be saved, to the princ.i.p.al arts of your s.e.x!-- Once more, what a devil has your heart to do in your eyes?

Have I not told you, that my beloved is a great observer of the eyes?

She once quoted upon me a text,* which showed me how she came by her knowledge--Dorcas's were found guilty of treason the first moment she saw her.

* Eccles. xxvi. The wh.o.r.edom of a woman may be known in her haughty looks and eye-lids. Watch over an impudent eye, and marvel not if it trespa.s.s against thee.

Once more, suppose me to be my charmer.--Now you are to encounter my examining eye, and my doubting heart--

That's my dear!

Study that air in the pier-gla.s.s!--

Charmingly!--Perfectly right!

Your honours, now, devils!--

Pretty well, Cousin Charlotte, for a young country lady! Till form yields to familiarity, you may courtesy low. You must not be supposed to have forgot your boarding-school airs.

But too low, too low Lady Betty, for your years and your quality. The common fault of your s.e.x will be your danger: aiming to be young too long!--The devil's in you all, when you judge of yourselves by your wishes, and by your vanity! Fifty, in that case, is never more than fifteen.

Graceful ease, conscious dignity, like that of my charmer, Oh! how hard to hit!

Both together now--

Charming!--That's the air, Lady Betty!--That's the cue, Cousin Charlotte, suited to the character of each!--But, once more, be sure to have a guard upon your eyes.

Never fear, Nephew!--

Never fear, Cousin.

A dram of Barbadoes each--

And now we are gone--

LETTER XI

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

AT MRS. SINCLAIR'S, MONDAY AFTERNOON.

All's right, as heart can wish!--In spite of all objection--in spite of a reluctance next to faintings--in spite of all foresight, vigilance, suspicion--once more is the charmer of my soul in her old lodgings!

Now throbs away every pulse! Now thump, thump, thumps my bounding heart for something!

But I have not time for the particulars of our management.

My beloved is now directing some of her clothes to be packed up--never more to enter this house! Nor ever more will she, I dare say, when once again out of it!

Yet not so much as a condition of forgiveness!--The Harlowe-spirited fair-one will not deserve my mercy!--She will wait for Miss Howe's next letter; and then, if she find a difficulty in her new schemes, [Thank her for nothing,]--will--will what? Why even then will take time to consider, whether I am to be forgiven, or for ever rejected. An indifference that revives in my heart the remembrance of a thousand of the like nature.--And yet Lady Betty and Miss Montague, [a man would be tempted to think, Jack, that they wish her to provoke my vengeance,]

declare, that I ought to be satisfied with such a proud suspension!

They are entirely attached to her. Whatever she says, is, must be, gospel! They are guarantees for her return to Hampstead this night.

They are to go back with her. A supper bespoken by Lady Betty at Mrs.

Moore's. All the vacant apartments there, by my permission, (for I had engaged them for a month certain,) to be filled with them and their attendants, for a week at least, or till they can prevail upon the dear perverse, as they hope they shall, to restore me to her favour, and to accompany Lady Betty to Oxfordshire.

The dear creature has thus far condescended--that she will write to Miss Howe and acquaint her with the present situation of things.

If she write, I shall see what she writes. But I believe she will have other employment soon.

Lady Betty is sure, she tells her, that she shall prevail upon her to forgive me; though she dares say, that I deserve not forgiveness. Lady Betty is too delicate to inquire strictly into the nature of my offence.

But it must be an offence against herself, against Miss Montague, against the virtuous of the whole s.e.x, or it could not be so highly resented.

Yet she will not leave her till she forgive me, and till she see our nuptials privately celebrated. Mean time, as she approves of her uncle's expedient, she will address her as already my wife before strangers.