Mr. Lovelace to John Belford, Esq.

Thursday morning, eight o'clock.

Her chamber door has not yet been opened. I must not expect she will breakfast with me. Nor dine with me, I doubt. A little silly soul, what troubles does she make to herself by her over-niceness! — All I have done to her, would have been looked upon as a frolic only, a romping-bout, and laughed off by nine parts in ten of the sex accordingly. The more she makes of it, the more painful to herself, as well as to me.

Why now, Jack, were it not better, upon her own notions, that she seemed not .10 sensible as she will make herself to be, if she is very angry?

But perhaps I am more afraid than I need. I believe I am. From her o^er-niceness arises my fear, more than from any extraordinary reason for resentment. Next time, she may count herself very happy, if she come off no worse.

The dear creature was so frightened , and so fatigued last night, no wonder she lies it out this morning. Clarissa. III.

I hope she has had more rest than I have had. Soft and balmy, I hope, have been her slumbers, that she may meet me in tolerable temper. All sweetly blushing and confounded — I know how she will look! — But why should she, the sufferer, be ashamed, when I, the trespasser, am not?

But custom is a prodigious thing. The women are told how much their blushes heighten their graces. They practise for them therefore: blushes come as readily when they call for them, as their tears; aye, that's it! While we men, taking blushes for a sign of guilt or sheepishness, are equally studious to suppress them. * * *

By my troth, Jack, I am half as much ashamed to see the women below, as my fair one can be to see me. I have not yet opened my door, that I may not be obtruded upon by them.

After all, what devils may one make of the sex! To what a height of — what shall I call it? — must those of it be arrived, who once loved a man with so much distinction, as both Polly and Sally loved me; and yet can have got so much above the pangs


of jealousy, so much above the mortifying reflections that arise from dividing and sharing with new objects the affections of him they prefer to all others, as to wish for, and promote a competitorship in bis love, and make their supreme delight consist in reducing others to their level! — For thou canst not imagine, how even Sally Martin rejoiced last night in the thought that the lady's hour was approaching.

Past ten o'clock.

I Never longed in my life for any thing with so much impatience, as to see my charmer. She has been stirring, it seems, these two hours.

Dorcas just now tapped at her door, to take her morning commands.

She had none for her, was the answer.

She desired to know, if she would not breakfast?

A sullen and low-voiced negative received Dorcas.

I will go myself.

* * #

Three different times tapped I at the door; but had no answer.

Permit me, dearest creature, to inquire after your health. As you have not been seen to-day, I am impatient to know how you do.

Not a word of answer; but a deep sigh, even to sobbing.

Let me beg of you, madam, to accompany me up another pair of stairs — you'll rejoice to see what a happy escape we have all had.

A happy escape indeed, Jack!

— For the fire had scorched the window-board, singed the hangings , and burnt through the slitdeal lining of the window-jambs.

No answer, madam! — Am I not worthy of one word? — Is it thus you keep your promise with me?— Shall I not have the favour of your company for two minutes [only for two minutes] in the dining-room?

Hem! — And a deep sigh! — were all the answer.

Answer me but how you do! Answer me but that you are well! Is this the forgiveness that was the condition of my obedience?

Then, inafaintish, but angry voice, Begone from my door! — Wretch! inhuman, barbarous, and all that is base and treacherous!

— begone from my door! Nor tease thus a poor creature, entitled to protection, not outrage.

I see, madam, how you keep your word with me — ifa sudden impulse, the effects of an unthought-of accident, cannot be forgiven —

O the dreadful weight of a father's curse, thus in the very letter of it —

And then her voice dying away in murmurs inarticulate, I looked through the key-hole, and saw her on her knees, her face, though not towards me, lifted up, as well as hands, and these folded, deprecating, I suppose, that gloomy tyrant's curse.

I could not help being moved.
My dearest life! admit me to

your presence but fortwominutes, and confirm your promised pardon: and may lightning blast me on the spot, if I offer any thing but my penitence, at a shrine so sacred! I will afterwards leave you for the whole day, and till to-morrow morning; and then attend you with writings, all ready to sign, a licence obtained, or if it cannot, a minister without one. This once believe me! When you see the reality of the danger that gave occasion for this your unhappy resentment, you will think less hardly of me. And let me beseech you to perform a promise on which I made a reliance not altogether ungenerous.

I cannot see you! Would to Heaven I never had! If I write, that's all I can do.

Let your writing then, my dearest life , confirm your promise: and I will withdraw in expectation of it.

Past eleven o'clock.

She rung the bell for Dorcas; and, with ner door in her hand, only half-opened gave her a billet for me.

How did the dear creature look, Dorcas?

She was dressed. She turned her face quite from me; and sighed, as if her heart would break.

Sweet creature! — I kissed the wet wafer, and drew it from the paper with my breath.

These are the contents. — No inscriptive Sir! No Mr. Lovelace!

Icanrot see you: nor will I, if I can help it. Words cannot express the anguish of my soul on your baseness and ingratitude.

If the circumstances of things are such, that I can have no way for reconciliation with those who would have been my natural protectors from such outrages, but through you, [the only inducement I can have to stay a moment longer in your knowledge] pen and ink must be, at present, the only means of communication between us.

Vilest of men and most detestable of plotters! how have I deserved from you the shocking indignities — but no more — only for your own sake, wish not, at least for a week to come, to see

The undeservedly injured

and insulted Clarissa Harlowe.

So, thou seest, nothing could have stood me in stead, but this plot of Tomlinson and her uncle! To what a pretty pass, nevertheless, have I brought myself! — Had Caesar been such a fool, he had never passed the Rubicon. But after he had passed it, had he retreated re infecta, intimidated by a senatorial edict, what a pretty figure would he have made in history! — I might have known, that to attempt a robbery, and put a person in bodily fear, is as punishable as if the robbery had been actually committed.

But not to see her for a week! — Dear, pretty soul! how she anticipates me in every thing! The

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