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I then offered to live single; never to marry at all; or never but with their full approbation.
If you mean to show your duty, and your obedience, Clary, you must show it in our way, not in your own.
I hope, madam, that I have not so behaved hitherto, as · to render such a trial of my obedience necessary.
Yes, Clary, I cannot but say that you have hitherto behaved extremely well: but you have had no trials till now : we have hitherto rather complied with you, than you with us. Now that you are grown up to marriageable years, is the test; especially as your grandfather has made you independent, in preference to those who had prior expectations upon that estate.
Madam, my grandfather knew, and expressly mentions in his will his desire, that my father will more than make it up to my sister.
I am loth to interrupt you, Clary; though you could more than once break in upon me.
I beg your pardon, dear madam, and your patience with me on such an occasion as this. If I did not speak with earnestness upon it, I should be supposed to have only maidenly objections against a man I never can endure.
How now, Clary !-O girl !
Your patience, my dearest mamma :-you were pleased to say, you would hear me with patience. —Person in a man is nothing, because I am supposed to be prudent: so my eye is to be disgusted, and my reason not convincedGirl, girl!
Thus are my imputed good qualities to be made my punishment; I am to be wedded to a monster. And that I may be induced to bear this treatment, I am to be complimented with being indifferent to all men: yet, at other times, and to serve other purposes, be thought prepossessed in favour of a man against whose moral character lie just objections.—Confined, as if, like the giddiest of creatures, I would run away with this man, POL 12le wait often Ciart, if Tut might be obged is 4.11€ po I gue5106-Are Tju reais in earnest, were tre w suupata with, to break off air correspodence with X: Lotium. -Let me koow this.
lugsti I 21 ; and I will You, madan, shat see ai] Siste innlent tirat lave passed between us. You sta see I LEER TIL 5:19 enojuragement.
J *yr at vor word, Clarissa-Give me his letters;
1 2 ure, ma all, you will keep the knowledge that I W7*4,% ulat I write
ng D ious with your mother-surels ms prudence suar te trLİ V.
I si ber pardon; and besuught her to take the key to: privats drawer in my escritoire, where they las,
, berat might see, that I had no reserves to my ABST.
frysed , and took all his letters, and the copies of si l londitioned with, she was pleased to say, they Disser for you again, unseen by anybody else.
I taska ber; and she withdrew to read them; saying, D wud return them, when she had.
Ju aburt an hour my mother returned. Take your lang, Ciary: I have notbing, she was pleased to say, to tot your dimetion with, as to the wording of yours to tuia. you have even kept up a proper dignity, as well as «Amervan all the rules of decorum ; and you have resented, ** yoti ought to resent, his menacing invectives. In a wurd, I was Duost, that he can form the least expectations irm what you have written, that you will encourage the pasnim be avows for you. But does he not avow his prasion? Have you the least doubt about what must be the issue of this correspondence, if continued ? And do yon yourwölf think, when you know the avowed hatred of
ne side, and the declared defiances of the other, that this can be, that it ought to be a match ?
will be pleased to
madam, that it have said as much
By no means it can, madam ; you will be pleased to observe, that I have said as much to him. But now, madam, that the whole correspondence is before you, I beg your commands what to do in a situation so very disagreeable.
Let me ask you, what you yourself can propose ? What, Clary, are your own thoughts of the matter ?
Without hesitation thus I answered—What I humbly propose is this :—“That I will write to Mr. Lovelace (for I have not answered his last) that he has nothing to do between my father and me: that I neither ask his advice, nor need it: but that since he thinks he has some pretence for interfering, because of my brother's avowal of the interest of Mr. Solmes in displeasure to him, I will assure him (without giving him any reason to impute the assurance to be in the least favourable to himself) that I never will be that man's.” And if, proceeded I, I may be permitted to give him this assurance; and Mr. Solmes, in consequence of it, be discouraged from prosecuting his address ; let Mr. Lovelace be satisfied or dissatisfied, I will go no farther; nor write another line to him ; nor ever see him more, if I can avoid it; and I shall have a good excuse for it, without bringing in any of my family.
Ah! my love !—But what shall we do about the terms Mr. Solmes offers ? Those are the inducements with everybody. He has even given hopes to your brother that he will make exchanges of estates.
And for the sake of these views, for the sake of this plan of my brother's, am I, madam, to be given in marriage to a man I never can endure !-0 my dear mamma, save me, save me, if you can, from this heavy evil !—I had rather be buried alive, indeed I had, than have that man !
She chid me for my vehemence; but was so good as to tell me, that she would sound my uncle Harlowe, who was then below; and if he encouraged her (or would engage to
second her) she would venture to talk to my father herself; and I should hear further in the morning.
She went down to tea, and kindly undertook to excuse my attendance at supper.
Would you not have thought that something might have been obtained in my favour, from an offer so reasonable, to put an end, as from myself, to a correspondence I hardly know how otherwise, with safety to some of my family, to get rid of ?-But my brother's plan, joined with my father's impatience of contradiction, are irresistible.
I have not been in bed all night; nor am I in the least drowsy. Expectation, and hope, and doubt kept me sufficiently wakeful. I stepped down at my usual time, that it might not be known I had not been in bed.
About eight o'clock Shorey came to me from my mother with orders to attend her in her chamber.
My mother had been weeping, I saw by her eyes : but her aspect seemed to be less tender, and less affectionate, than the day before; and this, as soon as I entered into her presence, struck me with an awe, which gave a great damp to my spirits.
Sit down, Clary Harlowe; I shall talk to you by-andby: and continued looking into a drawer among laces and linen, in a way neither busy nor unbusy.
I believe it was a quarter of an hour before she spoke to me (my heart throbbing with the suspense all the time); and then she asked me coldly, what directions I had given for the day?
I shewed her the bill of fare for this day, and to-morrow, if, I said, it pleased her to approve of it.
She made a small alteration in it; but with an air so cold and so solemn, as added to my emotions.
Mr. Harlowe talks of dining out to-day, I think, at my brother Antony's.
Mr. Harlowe -not my father !—have I not then a father !—thought I ?
Sit down when I bid you.
If children would always be children—parents—and there she stopt.
She then went to her toilette, and looked in the glass, and gave half a sigh—the other half, as if she would not have sighed could she have helped it, she gently hem'd away.
I don't love to see the girl look so sullen.
Indeed, madam, I am not sullen.—And I arose, and, turning from her, drew out my handkerchief; for the tears ran down my cheeks.
I thought, by the glass before me, I saw the mother in her softened eye cast towards me: but her words confirmed not the hoped-for tenderness.
One of the most provoking things in the world is, to have people cry for what they can help!
I wish to heaven I could, madam !-and I sobbed again.
Tears of penitence and sobs of perverseness are mighty well suited !-You may go up to your chamber. I shall talk with you by-and-by.
I courtesied with reverence.
Mock me not with outward gestures of respect. The heart, Clary, is what I want.
Indeed, madam, you have it. It is not so much mine as my mamma's !
Fine talking !-As somebody says, if words were to pass for duty, Clarissa Harlowe would be the dutifullest child breathing
God bless that somebody !-Be it whom it will, God bless that somebody and I courtésied, and, pursuant to her last command, was going.
She seemed struck; but was to be angry with me.