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

to be regarded, were agreeable things. Housetop-proclamations! I hid not my light under a bushel, she would say that for me. But was it not a little hard upon me, to be kept from blazing on a Sunday?⁠—And to be hindered from my charitable ostentations?

This, indeed, Bella, is cruel in you, who have so largely contributed to my confinement.⁠—But go on. You’ll be out of breath by-and-by. I cannot wish to be able to return this usage.⁠—Poor Bella! And I believe I smiled a little too contemptuously for a sister to a sister.

None of your saucy contempts (rising in her voice): None of your poor Bella’s, with that air of superiority in a younger sister!

Well then, rich Bella! courtesying⁠—that will please you better⁠—and it is due likewise to the hoards you boast of.

Look ye, Clary, holding up her hand, if you are not a little more abject in your meekness, a little more mean in your humility, and treat me with the respect due to an elder sister⁠—you shall find⁠—

Not that you will treat me worse than you have done, Bella!⁠—That cannot be; unless you were to let fall your uplifted hand upon me⁠—and that would less become you to do, than me to bear.

Good, meek creature:⁠—But you were upon your overtures just now!⁠—I shall surprise everybody by tarrying so long. They will think some good may be done with you⁠—and supper will be ready.

A tear would stray down my cheek⁠—How happy have I been, said I, sighing, in the suppertime conversations, with all my dear friends in my eye round their hospitable board.

I met only with insult for this⁠—Bella has not a feeling heart. The highest joy in this life she is not capable of: but then she saves herself many griefs, by her impenetrableness⁠—yet, for ten times the pain that such a sensibility is attended with, would I not part with the pleasure it brings with it.

She asked me, upon my turning from her, if she should not say anything below of my compliances?

You may say, that I will do everything they would have me do, if they will free me from Mr. Solmes’s address.

This is all you desire at present, creeper on! insinuator! (What words she has!) But will not t’other man flame out, and roar most horribly, upon the snatching from his paws a prey he thought himself sure of?

I must let you talk in your own way, or we shall never come to a point. I shall not matter in his roaring, as you call it. I will promise him, that, if I ever marry any other man, it shall not be till he is married. And if he be not satisfied with such a condescension, I shall think he ought: and I will give any assurances, that I will neither correspond with him, nor see him. Surely this will do.

But I suppose then you will have no objection to see and converse, on a civil footing, with Mr. Solmes⁠—as your father’s friend, or so?

No! I must be permitted to retire to my apartment whenever he comes. I would no more converse with the one, than correspond with the other. That would be to make Mr. Lovelace guilty of some rashness, on a belief, that I broke with him, to have Mr. Solmes.

And so, that wicked wretch is to be allowed such a control over you, that you are not to be civil to your father’s friends, at his own house, for fear of incensing him!⁠—When this comes to be represented, be so good as to tell me, what is it you expect from it!

Everything, I said, or nothing, as she was pleased to represent it.⁠—Be so good as to give it your interest, Bella, and say, further, “That I will by any means I can, in the law or otherwise, make over to my father, to my uncles, or even to my brother, all I am entitled to by my grandfather’s will, as a security for the performance of my promises. And as I shall have no reason to expect any favour from my father, if I break them, I shall not be worth anybody’s having. And further still, unkindly as my brother has used me, I will go down to Scotland privately, as his housekeeper (I now see I may be spared here) if he will promise to treat me no worse than he would do an hired one.⁠—Or I will go to Florence, to my cousin Morden, if his stay in Italy will admit of it. In either case, it may be given out, that I am gone to the other; or to the world’s end. I care not whither it is said I am gone, or do go.”

Let me ask you, child, if you will give your pretty proposal in writing?

Yes, with all my heart. And I stepped to my closet, and wrote to the purpose I have mentioned; and moreover, the following lines to my brother.

My Dear Brother,

I hope I have made such proposals to my sister as will be accepted. I am sure they will, if you please to give them your sanction. Let me beg of you, for God’s sake, that you will. I think myself very unhappy in having incurred your displeasure. No sister can love a brother better than I love you. Pray do not put the worst but the best constructions upon my proposals, when you have them reported to you. Indeed I mean the best. I have no subterfuges, no arts, no intentions, but to keep to the letter of them. You shall yourself draw up everything into writing, as strong as you can, and I will sign it: and what the law will not do to enforce it, my resolution and my will shall: so that I shall be worth nobody’s address, that has not my papa’s consent: nor shall any person, nor any consideration, induce me to revoke it. You can do more than anybody to reconcile my parents and uncles to me. Let