I could have gone in and kissed the girl.
Cl. You have heard his story. Mine, as I told you before, is too long, and too melancholy: my disorder on seeing the wretch is too great; and my time here is too short, for me to enter upon it. And if he has any end to serve by his own vindication, in which I shall not be a personal sufferer, let him make himself appear as white as an angel, with all my heart.
My love for her, and the excellent character I gave her, were then pleaded.
Cl. Specious seducer!—Only tell me if I cannot get away from him by some back way?
How my heart then went pit‑a‑pat, to speak in the female dialect.
Cl. Let me look out—(I heard the sash lifted up).—Whither does that path lead? Is there no possibility of getting to a coach? Surely he must deal with some fiend, or how could he have found me out? Cannot I steal to some neighbouring house, where I may be concealed till I can get quite away? You are good people!—I have not been always among such!—O help me, help me, Ladies! (with a voice of impatience), or I am ruined!
Then pausing, Is that the way to Hendon? (pointing, I suppose). Is Hendon a private place?—The Hampstead coach, I am told, will carry passengers thither.
Mrs. Moore. I have an honest friend at Mill-Hill, (Devil fetch her! thought I), where, if such be your determination, Madam, and if you think yourself in danger, you may be safe, I believe.
Cl. Anywhere, if I can but escape from this man! Whither does that path lead, out yonder?—What is that town on the right hand called?
Mrs. Moore. Highgate, Madam.
Miss R. On the side of the heath is a little village, called North-end. A kinswoman of mine lives there. But her house is small. I am not sure she could accommodate such a lady.
Devil take her too! thought I—I imagined that I had made myself a better interest in these women. But the whole sex love plotting—and plotters too, Jack.
Cl. A barn, an outhouse, a garret, will be a palace to me, if it will but afford me a refuge from this man!
Her senses, thought I, are much livelier than mine.—What a devil have I done, that she should be so very implacable? I told thee, Belford, all I did: Was there anything in it so very much amiss? Such prospects of a family reconciliation before her too! To be sure she is a very sensible lady!
She then espied my new servant walking under the window, and asked if he were not one of mine?
Will was on the lookout for old Grimes, (so is the fellow called whom my beloved has dispatched to Miss Howe). And being told that the man she saw was my servant; I see, said she, that there is no escaping, unless you, Madam, (to Miss Rawlins, I suppose), can befriend me till I can get farther. I have no doubt that the fellow is planted about the house to watch my steps. But the wicked wretch his master has no right to control me. He shall not hinder me from going where I please. I will raise the town upon him, if he molests me. Dear Ladies, is there no backdoor for me to get out at while you hold him in talk?
Miss R. Give me leave to ask you, Madam, Is there no room to hope for accommodation? Had you not better see him? He certainly loves you dearly: he is a fine gentleman; you may exasperate him, and make matters more unhappy for yourself.
Cl. O Mrs. Moore! O Miss Rawlins! you know not the man! I wish not to see his face, nor to exchange another word with him as long as I live.
Mrs. Moore. I don’t find, Miss Rawlins, that the gentleman has misrepresented anything. You see, Madam, (to my Clarissa), how respectful he is; not to come in till permitted. He certainly loves you dearly. Pray, Madam, let him talk to you, as he wishes to do, on the subject of his letters.
Very kind of Mrs. Moore!—Mrs. Moore, thought I, is a very good woman. I did not curse her then.
Miss Rawlins said something; but so low that I could not hear what it was. Thus it was answered.
Cl. I am greatly distressed! I know not what to do!—But, Mrs. Moore, be so good as to give his letters to him—here they are.—Be pleased to tell him, that I wish him and Lady Betty and Miss Montague a happy meeting. He never can want excuses to them for what has happened, any more than pretences to those he would delude. Tell him, that he has ruined me in the opinion of my own friends. I am for that reason the less solicitous how I appear to his.
Mrs. Moore then came to me; and I, being afraid that something would pass meantime between the other two, which I should not like, took the letters, and entered the room, and found them retired into the closet; my beloved whispering with an air of earnestness to Miss Rawlins, who was all attention.
Her back was towards me; and Miss Rawlins, by pulling her sleeve, giving intimation of my being there—Can I have no retirement uninvaded, Sir, said she, with indignation, as if she were interrupted in some talk her heart was in?—What business have you here, or with me?—You have your letters; have you not?
Lovel. I have, my dear; and let me beg of you to consider what you are about. I every moment expect Captain Tomlinson here. Upon my soul, I do. He has promised to keep from your uncle what has happened: but what will
