Volume II Part 21 (1/2)

He may be mean enough perhaps, if ever I should put it into his power, to avenge himself for the trouble he has had with me.--But that now, I dare say, I never shall.

I see what sort of a man the encroacher is. And I hope we are equally sick of one another.--My heart is vexedly easy, if I may so describe it.--Vexedly--because of the apprehended interview with Solmes, and the consequences it may be attended with: or else I should be quite easy; for why? I have not deserved the usage I receive: and could I be rid of Solmes, as I presume I am of Lovelace, their influence over my father, mother, and uncles, against me, could not hold.

The five guineas tied up in one corner of a handkerchief under the linen, I beg you will let pa.s.s as an acknowledgement for the trouble I give your trusty servant. You must not chide me for this. You know I cannot be easy unless I have my way in these little matters.

I was going to put up what little money I have, and some of my ornaments; but they are portable, and I cannot forget them. Besides, should they (suspecting me) desire to see any of the jewels, and were I not able to produce them, it would amount to a demonstration of an intention which would have a guilty appearance to them.

FRIDAY, ONE O'CLOCK, IN THE WOOD-HOUSE.

No letter yet from this man! I have luckily deposited my parcel, and have your letter of last night. If Robert take this without the parcel, pray let him return immediately for it. But he cannot miss it, I think: and must conclude that it is put there for him to take away. You may believe, from the contents of yours, that I shall immediately write again.--

CLARISSA HARLOWE.

LETTER XXVI

MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE THURSDAY NIGHT, MARCH 30.

The fruits of my inquiry after your abominable wretch's behaviour and baseness at the paltry alehouse, which he calls an inn, prepare to hear.

Wrens and sparrows are not too ign.o.ble a quarry for this villainous gos-hawk!--His a.s.siduities; his watchings; his nightly risques; the inclement weather he journeys in; must not be all placed to your account. He has opportunities of making every thing light to him of that sort. A sweet pretty girl, I am told--innocent till he went thither--Now! (Ah! poor girl!) who knows what?

But just turned of seventeen!--His friend and brother-rake (a man of humour and intrigue) as I am told, to share the social bottle with.

And sometimes another disguised rake or two. No sorrow comes near their hearts. Be not disturbed, my dear, at his hoa.r.s.enesses! his pretty, Betsey, his Rosebud, as the vile wretch calls her, can hear all he says.

He is very fond of her. They say she is innocent even yet--her father, her grandmother, believe her to be so. He is to fortune her out to a young lover!--Ah! the poor young lover!--Ah! the poor simple girl!

Mr. Hickman tells me, that he heard in town, that he used to be often at plays, and at the opera, with women; and every time with a different one--Ah! my sweet friend!--But I hope he is nothing to you, if all this were truth.--But this intelligence, in relation to this poor girl, will do his business, if you had been ever so good friends before.

A vile wretch! Cannot such purity in pursuit, in view, restrain him? but I leave him to you!--There can be no hope of him. More of a fool, than of such a man. Yet I wish I may be able to s.n.a.t.c.h the poor young creature out of his villainous paws. I have laid a scheme to do so; if indeed she be hitherto innocent and heart-free.

He appears to the people as a military man, in disguise, secreting himself on account of a duel fought in town; the adversary's life in suspense. They believe he is a great man. His friend pa.s.ses for an inferior officer; upon a footing of freedom with him. He, accompanied by a third man, who is a sort of subordinate companion to the second. The wretch himself with but one servant.

O my dear! how pleasantly can these devils, as I must call them, pa.s.s their time, while our gentle bosoms heave with pity for their supposed sufferings for us!

I have sent for this girl and her father; and am just now informed, that I shall see them. I will sift them thoroughly. I shall soon find out such a simple thing as this, if he has not corrupted her already--and if he has, I shall soon find out that too.--If more art than nature appears either in her or her father, I shall give them both up--but depend upon it, the girl's undone.

He is said to be fond of her. He places her at the upper end of his table. He sets her a-prattling. He keeps his friends at a distance from her. She prates away. He admires for nature all she says. Once was heard to call her charming little creature! An hundred has he called so no doubt. He puts her upon singing. He praises her wild note--O my dear, the girl's undone!--must be undone!--The man, you know, is LOVELACE.

Let 'em bring Wyerley to you, if they will have you married--any body but Solmes and Lovelace be yours!--So advises

Your ANNA HOWE.