house,” was the magnificent word.
She concludes, with “desiring to be informed of our nuptials the moment they are celebrated, that she may be with the earliest in felicitating me on the happy occasion.”
But her Ladyship gives me no direct invitation to attend her before the marriage: which I might have expected from what he had told me.
He then showed me part of Miss Montague’s more sprightly letter, “congratulating him upon the honour he had obtained, of the confidence of so admirable a
lady.” These are her words. Confidence, my dear! Nobody, indeed, as you say, will believe otherwise, were they to be told the truth: and you see that Miss Montague (and all his family, I suppose) think that the step I have taken an extraordinary one. “She also wishes for his speedy nuptials; and to see her new cousin at M. Hall: as do Lord M. she tells him, and her sister; and in general all the well-wishers of their family.
“Whenever this happy day shall be passed, she proposes, she says, to attend me, and to make one in my train to M. Hall, if his Lordship shall continue as ill of the gout as he is at present. But that, should he get better, he will himself attend me, she is sure, and conduct me thither; and afterwards quit either of his three seats to us, till we shall be settled to our mind.”
This young lady says nothing in excuse for not meeting me on the road, or St. Alban’s, as he had made me expect she would: yet mentions her having been indisposed
. Mr. Lovelace had also told me, that Lord M. was ill of the gout
; which Miss Montague’s letter confirms.
But why did not the man show me these letters last night? Was he afraid of giving me too much pleasure?
Letter 123
Miss Clarissa Harlowe, to Miss Howe
You may believe, my dear, that these letters put me in good humour with him. He saw it in my countenance, and congratulated himself upon it. Yet I cannot but repeat my wonder, that I could not have the contents of them communicated to me last night.97
He then urged me to go directly to Lady Betty’s, on the strength of her letter.
But how, said I, can I do that, were I even out of all hope of a reconciliation with my friends, (which yet, however unlikely to be effected, is my duty to attempt), as her Ladyship has given me no particular invitation?
That, he was sure, was owing to her doubt that it would be accepted—Else she had done it with the greatest pleasure in the world.
That doubt itself, I said, was enough to deter me: since her Ladyship, who knew so well the boundaries to the fit and the unfit, by her not expecting I would accept of the invitation, had she given it, would have reason to think me very forward, if I had accepted it; and much more forward to go without it. Then, said I, I thank you, Sir, I have no clothes fit to go anywhere, or to be seen by anybody.
O, I was fit to appear in the drawing-room, were full dress and jewels to be excused; and should make the most amiable (he must mean extraordinary) figure there. He was astonished at the elegance of my dress. By what art he knew not, but I appeared to such advantage, as if I had a different suit every day.
Besides, his cousins Montague would supply me with all I wanted for the present; and he would write to Miss Charlotte accordingly, if I would give him leave.
Do you think me the jay in the fable? said I. Would you have me visit the owners of the borrowed dresses in their own clothes? Surely, Mr. Lovelace, you think I have either a very low, or a very confident mind.
Would I choose to go to London (for a very few days only) in order to furnish myself with clothes?
Not at your expense, Sir, said I, in an angry tone.
I could not have appeared in earnest to him, in my displeasure at his artful contrivances to get me away, if I were not occasionally to show my real fretfulness upon the destitute condition to which he has reduced me. When people set out wrong together, it is very difficult to avoid recriminations.
He wished he knew but my mind—That should direct him in his proposals, and it would be his delight to observe it, whatever it were.
My mind is, that you, Sir, should leave me out of hand—How often must I tell you so?
If I were anywhere but here, he would obey me, he said, if I insisted upon it. But if I would assert my right, that would be infinitely preferable, in his opinion, to any other measure but one (which he durst only hint at): for then admitting his visits, or refusing them, as I pleased, (Granting a correspondence by letter only) it would appear to all the world, that what I had done, was but in order to do myself justice.
How often, Mr. Lovelace, must I repeat, that I will not litigate with my father? Do you think that my unhappy circumstances will alter my notions of my own duty so far as I shall be enabled to perform it? How can I obtain possession without litigation, and but by my trustees? One of them will be against me; the other is
