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

I will return to a subject, which I cannot fly from for ten minutes together⁠—called upon especially, as I am, by your three alternatives stated in the conclusion of your last.

As to the first; to wit, your advice for me to escape to London⁠—let me tell you, that the other hint or proposal which accompanies it perfectly frightens me⁠—surely, my dear, (happy as you are, and indulgently treated as your mother treats you), you cannot mean what you propose! What a wretch must I be, if, for one moment only, I could lend an ear to such a proposal as this!⁠—I, to be the occasion of making such a mother’s (perhaps shortened) life unhappy to the last hour of it!⁠—Ennoble you, my dear creature! How must such an enterprise (the rashness public, the motives, were they excusable, private) debase you!⁠—but I will not dwell upon the subject⁠—for your own sake I will not.

As to your second alternative, to put myself into the protection of Lord M. and of the ladies of that family, I own to you, (as I believe I have owned before), that although to do this would be the same thing in the eye of the world as putting myself into Mr. Lovelace’s protection, yet I think I would do it rather than be Mr. Solmes’s wife, if there were evidently no other way to avoid being so.

Mr. Lovelace, you have seen, proposes to contrive a way to put me into possession of my own house; and he tells me, that he will soon fill it with the ladies of his family, as my visitors;⁠—upon my invitation, however, to them. A very inconsiderate proposal I think it to be, and upon which I cannot explain myself to him. What an exertion of independency does it chalk out for me! How, were I to attend to him, (and not to the natural consequences to which the following of his advice would lead me), might I be drawn by gentle words into the penetration of the most violent acts!⁠—For how could I gain possession, but either by legal litigation, which, were I inclined to have recourse to it, (as I never can be), must take up time; or by forcibly turning out the persons whom my father has placed there, to look after the gardens, the house, and the furniture⁠—persons entirely attached to himself, and who, as I know, have been lately instructed by my brother?

Your third alternative, to meet and marry Mr. Lovelace directly; a man with whose morals I am far from being satisfied⁠—a step, that could not be taken with the least hope of ever obtaining pardon from or reconciliation with any of my friends; and against which a thousand objections rise in my mind⁠—that is not to be thought of.

What appears to me, upon the fullest deliberation, the most eligible, if I must be thus driven, is the escaping to London. But I would forfeit all my hopes of happiness in this life, rather than you should go away with me, as you rashly, though with the kindest intentions, propose. If I could get safely thither, and be private, methinks I might remain absolutely independent of Mr. Lovelace, and at liberty either to make proposals to my friends, or, should they renounce me, (and I had no other or better way), to make terms with him; supposing my cousin Morden, on his arrival, were to join with my other relations. But they would then perhaps indulge me in my choice of a single life, on giving him up: the renewing to them this offer, when at my own liberty, will at least convince them, that I was in earnest when I made it first: and, upon my word, I would stand to it, dear as you seem to think, when you are disposed to rally me, it would cost me, to stand to it.

If, my dear, you can procure a vehicle for us both, you can perhaps procure one for me singly: but can it be done without embroiling yourself with your mother, or her with our family?⁠—Be it coach, chariot, chaise, wagon, or horse, I matter not, provided you appear not to have a hand in my withdrawing. Only, in case it be one of the two latter, I believe I must desire you to get me an ordinary gown and coat, or habit, of some servant; having no concert with any of our own: the more ordinary the better. They must be thrust on in the wood-house; where I can put them on; and then slide down from the bank, that separates the wood-yard from the green lane.

But, alas! my dear, this, even this alternative, is not without difficulties, which, to a spirit so little enterprising as mine, seem in a manner insuperable. These are my reflections upon it.

I am afraid, in the first place, that I shall not have time for the requisite preparations for an escape.

Should I be either detected in those preparations, or pursued and overtaken in my flight, and so brought back, then would they think themselves doubly warranted to compel me to have their Solmes: and, conscious of an intended fault, perhaps, I should be the less able to contend with them.

But were I even to get safely to London, I know nobody there but by name; and those the tradesmen to our family; who, no doubt, would be the first written to and engaged to find me out. And should Mr. Lovelace discover where I was, and he and my brother meet, what mischiefs might ensue between them, whether I were willing or not to return to Harlowe-place!

But supposing I could remain there concealed, to what might my youth, my sex, and unacquaintedness of the ways of that great, wicked town, expose me!⁠—I should hardly dare to go to church for fear of being discovered. People would wonder how I lived. Who knows but I might pass for a kept mistress; and that,