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

for all my sins to my beloved fugitive. For here today, at about five o’clock, arrived Lady Sarah Sadleir and Lady Betty Lawrance, each in her chariot-and-six. Dowagers love equipage; and these cannot travel ten miles without a sett, and half a dozen horsemen.

My time had hung heavy upon my hands; and so I went to church after dinner. Why may not handsome fellows, thought I, like to be looked at, as well as handsome wenches? I fell in, when service was over, with Major Warneton; and so came not home till after six; and was surprised, at entering the courtyard here, to find it littered with equipages and servants. I was sure the owners of them came for no good to me.

Lady Sarah, I soon found, was raised to this visit by Lady Betty; who has health enough to allow her to look out to herself, and out of her own affairs, for business. Yet congratulation to Lord M. on his amendment, (spiteful devils on both accounts!) was the avowed errand. But coming in my absence, I was their principal subject; and they had opportunity to set each other’s heart against me.

Simon Parsons hinted this to me, as I passed by the steward’s office; for it seems they talked loud; and he was making up some accounts with old Pritchard.

However, I hastened to pay my duty to them⁠—other people not performing theirs, is no excuse for the neglect of our own, you know.

And now I enter upon my trial.

With horrible grave faces was I received. The two antiquities only bowed their tabby heads; making longer faces than ordinary; and all the old lines appearing strong in their furrowed foreheads and fallen cheeks; How do you, Cousin? And how do you, Mr. Lovelace? looking all round at one another, as who should say, do you speak first: and, do you: for they seemed resolved to lose no time.

I had nothing for it, but an air as manly, as theirs was womanly. Your servant, Madam, to Lady Betty; and, Your servant, Madam, I am glad to see you abroad, to Lady Sarah.

I took my seat. Lord M. looked horribly glum; his fingers clasped, and turning round and round, under and over, his but just disgouted thumb; his sallow face, and goggling eyes, on his two kinswomen, by turns; but not once deigning to look upon me.

Then I began to think of the laudanum, and wet cloth, I told thee of long ago; and to call myself in question for a tenderness of heart that will never do me good.

At last, Mr. Lovelace!⁠—Cousin Lovelace!⁠—Hem!⁠—Hem!⁠—I am sorry, very sorry, hesitated Lady Sarah, that there is no hope of your ever taking up⁠—

What’s the matter now, Madam?

The matter now!⁠—Why Lady Betty has two letters from Miss Harlowe, which have told us what’s the matter⁠—Are all women alike with you?

Yes; I could have answered; ’bating the difference which pride makes.

Then they all chorus’d upon me⁠—Such a character as Miss Harlowe’s! cried one⁠—A lady of so much generosity and good sense! Another⁠—How charmingly she writes! the two maiden monkeys, looking at her find handwriting: her perfections my crimes. What can you expect will be the end of these things! cried Lady Sarah⁠—d⁠⸺⁠d, d⁠⸺⁠d doings! vociferated the Peer, shaking his loose-fleshe’d wabbling chaps, which hung on his shoulders like an old cow’s dewlap.

For my part, I hardly knew whether to sing or say what I had to reply to these all-at-once attacks upon me!-Fair and softly, Ladies⁠—one at a time, I beseech you. I am not to be hunted down without being heard, I hope. Pray let me see these letters. I beg you will let me see them.

There they are:⁠—that’s the first⁠—read it out, if you can.

I opened a letter from my charmer, dated Thursday, June 29, our wedding-day, that was to be, and written to Lady Betty Lawrance. By the contents, to my great joy, I find the dear creature is alive and well, and in charming spirits. But the direction where to send an answer to was so scratched out that I could not read it; which afflicted me much.

She puts three questions in it to Lady Betty.

1st. About a letter of hers, dated June 7, congratulating me on my nuptials, and which I was so good as to save Lady Betty the trouble of writing⁠—A very civil thing of me, I think!

Again⁠—“Whether she and one of her nieces Montague were to go to town, on an old chancery suit?”⁠—And, “Whether they actually did go to town accordingly, and to Hampstead afterwards?” and, “Whether they brought to town from thence the young creature whom they visited?” was the subject of the second and third questions.

A little inquisitive, dear rogue! and what did she expect to be the better for these questions?⁠—But curiosity, d⁠⸺⁠d curiosity, is the itch of the sex⁠—yet when didst thou know it turned to their benefit?⁠—For they seldom inquire, but what they fear⁠—and the proverb, as my Lord has it, says, It comes with a fear. That is, I suppose, what they fear generally happens, because there is generally occasion for the fear.

Curiosity indeed she avows to be her only motive for these interrogatories: for, though she says her Ladyship may suppose the questions are not asked for good to me, yet the answer can do me no harm, nor her good, only to give her to understand, whether I have told her a parcel of d⁠⸺⁠d lyes; that’s the plain English of her inquiry.

Well, Madam, said I, with as much philosophy as I could assume; and may I ask⁠—Pray, what was your Ladyship’s answer?

There’s a copy of it, tossing it to me, very disrespectfully.

This answer was dated July 1. A very kind and complaisant one to the lady, but very so-so to her poor kinsman⁠—That people can give up their own flesh and blood with so much ease!⁠—She tells her “how proud all our family would be of an alliance with such an excellence.” She does me