Clarissa Harlowe, Samuel Richardson [black authors fiction .txt] 📗

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 everybody’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 everybody.

She paused. Dear Bella, proceed!

She indeed seemed only gathering breath.

And so I will, said she⁠—Did you not bewitch my grandfather? Could anything 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 showed 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,23 humouring his old fal-lal taste, admired it, to make it all her own.

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 will. 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 anything your little obstinate heart was set upon⁠—!

Obstinate heart, Bella!

Yes, obstinate heart! For did you ever give up anything? 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 anything unfit to be granted. I seldom asked favours for myself, but for others.

I was a reflecting creature for this.

All you speak of, Bella, was a long time ago. I cannot go so far back into our childish follies. Little did I think of how long standing your late-shown antipathy is.

I was a reflector again! Such a saucy meekness; such a best manner; and such venom in words!⁠—O Clary! Clary! Thou wert always a two-faced girl!

Nobody thought I had two faces, when I gave up all into my father’s management; taking from his bounty, as before, all my little pocket-money, without a shilling addition to my stipend, or desiring it⁠—

Yes, cunning creature!⁠—And that was another of your fetches!⁠—For did it not engage my fond father (as no doubt you thought it would) to tell you, that since you had done so grateful and dutiful a thing, he would keep entire, for your use, all the produce of the estate left you, and be but your steward in it; and that you should be entitled to the same allowances as before? Another of your hook-in’s, Clary!⁠—So that all your extravagancies have been supported gratis.

My extravagancies, Bella!⁠—But did my father ever give me anything he did not give you?

Yes, indeed; I got more by that means, than I should have had the conscience to ask. But I have still the greater part to show! But you! What have you to show?⁠—I dare say, not fifty pieces in the world!

Indeed I have not!

I believe you!⁠—Your mamma Norton, I suppose⁠—But mum for that⁠—!

Unworthy Bella! The good woman, although low in circumstance, is great in mind! Much greater than those who would impute meanness to a soul incapable of it.

What then have you done with the sums given you from infancy to squander?⁠—Let me ask you (affecting archness), Has, has, has Lovelace, has your rake, put it out at interest for you?

O that my sister would not make me blush for her! It is, however, out at interest!⁠—And I hope it will bring me interest upon interest!⁠—Better than to lie useless in my cabinet.

She understood me, she said. Were I a man, she should suppose I was aiming to carry the county⁠—Popularity! A crowd to follow me with their blessings as I went to and from church, and nobody else