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

this! (hurrying up and down, fanning herself with her handkerchief), Such angry masters and mistresses!⁠—such an obstinate young lady!⁠—such a humble lover!⁠—such enraged uncles!⁠—such⁠—O dear!⁠—dear! what a topsy-turvy house is this!⁠—And all for what, trow?⁠—only because a young lady may be happy, and will not?⁠—only because a young lady will have a husband, and will not have a husband? What hurlyburlies are here, where all used to be peace and quietness!

Thus she ran on to herself; while I sat as patiently as I could (being assured that her errand was not designed to be a welcome one to me) to observe when her soliloquy would end.

At last, turning to me⁠—I must do as I am bid. I can’t help it⁠—don’t be angry with me, Miss. But I must carry down your pen and ink: and that this moment.

By whose order?

By your papa’s and mamma’s.

How shall I know that?

She offered to go to my closet: I stepped in before her: touch it, if you dare.

Up came my cousin Dolly⁠—Madam!⁠—Madam! said the poor weeping, good natured creature, in broken sentences⁠—you must⁠—indeed you must⁠—deliver to Betty⁠—or to me⁠—your pen and ink.

Must I, my sweet Cousin? then I will to you; but not to this bold body. And so I gave my standish to her.

I am sorry, very sorry, said she, Miss, to be the messenger: but your papa will not have you in the same house with him: he is resolved you shall be carried away tomorrow, or Saturday at farthest. And therefore your pen and ink are taken away, that you may give nobody notice of it.

And away went the dear girl, very sorrowful, carrying down with her my standish, and all its furniture, and a little parcel of pens beside, which having been seen when the great search was made, she was bid to ask for.

As it happened, I had not diminished it, having hid half a dozen crow quills in as many different places. It was lucky; for I doubt not they had numbered how many were in the parcel.

Betty ran on, telling me, that my mother was now as much incensed against me as anybody⁠—that my doom was fixed⁠—that my violent behaviour had not left one to plead for me⁠—that Mr. Solmes bit his lip, and muttered, and seemed to have more in his head, than could come out at his mouth; that was her phrase.

And yet she also hinted to me, that the cruel wretch took pleasure in seeing me; although so much to my disgust⁠—and so wanted to see me again.⁠—Must he not be a savage, my dear?

The wench went on⁠—that my uncle Harlowe said, That now he gave me up⁠—that he pitied Mr. Solmes⁠—yet hoped he would not think of this to my detriment hereafter: that my uncle Antony was of opinion, that I ought to smart for it: and, for her part⁠—and then, as one of the family, she gave her opinion of the same side.

As I have no other way of hearing anything that is said or intended below, I bear sometimes more patiently than I otherwise should do with her impertinence. And indeed she seems to be in all my brother’s and sister’s counsels.

Miss Hervey came up again, and demanded an half-pint ink-bottle which they had seen in my closet.

I gave it her without hesitation.

If they have no suspicion of my being able to write, they will perhaps let me stay longer than otherwise they would.

This, my dear, is now my situation.

All my dependence, all my hopes, are in your mother’s favour. But for that, I know not what I might do: For who can tell what will come next?

Letter 80 Miss Clarissa Harlowe, to Miss Howe

Wednesday, Four o’clock in the Afternoon

I am just returned from depositing the letter I so lately finished, and such of Mr. Lovelace’s letters as I had not sent you. My long letter I found remaining there⁠—so you will have both together.

I am convinced, methinks, it is not with you.⁠—But your servant cannot always be at leisure. However, I will deposit as fast as I write. I must keep nothing by me now; and when I write, lock myself in, that I may not be surprised now they think I have no pen and ink.

I found in the usual place another letter from this diligent man: and, by its contents, a confirmation that nothing passes in this house but he knows it; and that almost as soon as it passes. For this letter must have been written before he could have received my billet; and deposited, I suppose, when that was taken away; yet he compliments me in it upon asserting myself (as he calls it) on that occasion to my uncle and to Mr. Solmes.

“He assures me, however, that they are more and more determined to subdue me.

“He sends me the compliments of his family; and acquaints me with their earnest desire to see me amongst them. Most vehemently does he press for my quitting this house, while it is in my power to get away: and again craves leave to order his uncle’s chariot-and-six to attend my commands at the stile leading to the coppice adjoining to the paddock.

“Settlements to my own will he again offers. Lord M. and Lady Sarah and Lady Betty to be guarantees of his honour and justice. But, if I choose not to go to either of those ladies, nor yet to make him the happiest of men so soon as it is nevertheless his hope that I will, he urges me to withdraw to my own house, and to accept of Lord M. for my guardian and protector till my cousin Morden arrives. He can contrive, he says, to give me easy possession of it, and will fill it with his female relations on the first invitation from me; and Mrs. Norton, or Miss Howe, may be undoubtedly prevailed upon to be with me for a time. There can be no pretence for litigation, he says,