* Vol. III. Letters XXXVIII. and XXXIX.
The wretch might indeed have held out these
false lights a little more excusably, had the house
been an honest house; and had his end only been
to prevent mischief from your brother. But this
contrivance was antecedent, as I think, to your
brother's project; so that no excuse can be made
>>> for his intentions at the time—the man, whatever he
may now intend, was certainly then, even then, a
villain in his heart.
***
>>> I am excessively concerned that I should be pre-
vailed upon, between your over-niceness, on one
hand, and my mother's positiveness, on the other, to
be satisfied without knowing how to direct to you
at your lodgings. I think too, that the proposal
that I should be put off to a third-hand knowledge,
or rather veiled in a first-hand ignorance, came from
him, and that it was only acquiesced in by you, as
it was by me,* upon needless and weak considera-
tions; because, truly, I might have it to say, if
challenged, that I knew not where to send to you!
I am ashamed of myself!—Had this been at first
excusable, it could not be a good reason for going
on in the folly, when you had no liking to the
>>> house, and when he began to play tricks, and delay
with you.—What! I was to mistrust myself, was
I? I was to allow it to be thought, that I could
>>> not keep my own secret?—But the house to be
>>> taken at this time, and at that time, led us both on
>>> —like fools, like tame fools, in a string. Upon my
life, my dear, this man is a vile, a contemptible
villain—I must speak out!—How has he laughed
in his sleeve at us both, I warrant, for I can't tell
how long!
* See Vol. III. Letter LVI. par. 12. and Letter LVIII. par. 12.—Where the reader will observe, that the proposal came from herself; which, as it was also mentioned by Mr. Lovelace, (towards the end of Letter I. in Vol. IV.) she may be presumed to have forgotten. So that Clarissa had a double inducement for acquiescing with the proposed method of carrying on the correspondence between Miss Howe and herself by Wilson's conveyance, and by the name of Laetitia Beaumont.
And yet who could have thought that a man of
>>> fortune, and some reputation, [this Doleman, I
mean—not your wretch, to be sure!] formerly a
rake, indeed, [I inquired after him long ago; and
so was the easier satisfied;] but married to a
woman of family—having had a palsy-blow—and,
>>> one would think, a penitent, should recommend
such a house [why, my dear, he could not inquire
of it, but must find it to be bad] to such a man as
Lovelace, to bring his future, nay, his then supposed,
bride to?
***
>>> I write, perhaps, with too much violence, to be
clear, but I cannot help it. Yet I lay down my
pen, and take it up every ten minutes, in order to
write with some temper—my mother too, in and
out—What need I, (she asks me,) lock myself in,
if I am only reading past correspondencies? For
>>> that is my pretence, when she comes poking in with
her face sharpened to an edge, as I may say, by a
curiosity that gives her more pain than pleasure.—
>>> The Lord forgive me; but I believe I shall huff
her next time she comes in.
***
Do you forgive me too, my dear—my mother
ought; because she says, I am my father's girl; and
because I am sure I am her's. I don't kow what
to do—I don't know what to write next—I have
so much to write, yet have so little patience, and so
little opportunity.
But I will tell you how I came by my intelli-
>>> gence. That being a fact, and requiring the less
attention, I will try to account to you for that.
Thus, then, it came about: 'Miss Lardner
(whom you have seen at her cousin Biddulph's)
saw you at St. James's Church on Sunday was fort-
night. She kept you in her eye during the whole
time; but could not once obtain the notice of your's,
though she courtesied to you twice. She thought to
pay her compliments to you when the service was
over, for she doubted not but you were married—
>>> and for an odd reason—because you came to church
by yourself. Every eye, (as usual, wherever you
are, she said,) was upon you; and this seeming to
give you hurry, and you being nearer the door than
she, you slid out, before she could get to you.—But
she ordered her servant to follow you till you were
housed. This servant saw you step into a chair,
which waited for you; and you ordered the men to
carry you to the place where they took you up.
'The next day, Miss Lardner sent the same
servant, out of mere curiosity, to make private in-
quiry whether Mr. Lovelace were, or were not,
with you there.—And this inquiry brought out,
>>> from different people, that the house was suspected
to be one of those genteel wicked houses, which
receive and accommodate fashionable people of both
sexes.
'Miss Lardner, confounded at this strange intel-
ligence, made further inquiry; enjoining secrecy
to the servant she had sent, as well as to the gentle-
>>> man whom she employed; who had it confirmed
from a rakish friend, who knew the house; and
told him, that there were two houses: the one in
which all decent appearances were preserved, and guests
rarely admitted; the other, the receptacle of those
who were absolutely engaged, and broken to the
vile yoke.'