You must be the less surprised at the inventions of this man, because of his uncommon talents. Whatever he had turned his head to, he would have excelled in; or been (or done things) extraordinary. He is said to be revengeful: a very bad quality! I believe, indeed, he is a devil in every thing but his foot—this, therefore, is my repeated advice—provoke him not too much against yourself: but unchain him, and let him loose upon your sister' Betty, and your brother's Joseph Leman. This is resenting low: but I know to whom I write, or else I would go a good deal higher, [I'll assure you.]
Your next, I suppose, will be from London. Pray direct it, and your future letters, till further notice, to Mr. Hickman, at his own house. He is entirely devoted to you. Don't take so heavily my mother's partiality and prejudices. I hope I am past a baby.
Heaven preserve you, and make you as happy as I think you deserve to be, prays
Your ever affectionate ANNA HOWE.
LETTER XXXVII
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE WEDN. MORNING, APRIL 19.
I am glad, my dear friend, that you approve of my removal to London.
The disagreement between your mother and you gives me inexpressible affliction. I hope I think you both more unhappy than you are. But I beseech you let me know the particulars of the debate you call a very pretty one. I am well acquainted with your dialect. When I am informed of the whole, let your mother have been ever so severe upon me, I shall be easier a great deal.—Faulty people should rather deplore the occasion they have given for anger than resent it.
If I am to be obliged to any body in England for money, it shall be to you. Your mother need not know of your kindness to me, you say—but she must know it, if it be done, and if she challenge my beloved friend upon it; for would you either falsify or prevaricate?—I wish your mother could be made easy on this head—forgive me, my dear,—but I know—Yet once she had a better opinion of me.—O my inconsiderate rashness!—Excuse me once more, I pray you.—Pride, when it is native, will shew itself sometimes in the midst of mortifications—but my stomach is down already.