O my dear! what risks may poor giddy girls run, when they throw themselves out of the protection of their natural friends, and into the wide world!
They then talked again of reconciliation and intimacy with every one of my friends; with my mother particularly; and gave the dear good lady the praises that every one gives her, who has the happiness to know her.
Ah, my dear Miss Howe! I had almost forgot my resentments against the pretended nephew!—So many agreeable things said, made me think, that, if you should advise it, and if I could bring my mind to forgive the wretch for an outrage so premeditatedly vile, and could forbear despising him for that and his other ungrateful and wicked ways, I might not be unhappy in an alliance with such a family. Yet, thought I at the time, with what intermixture does every thing come to me that had the appearance of good!——However, as my lucid hopes made me see fewer faults in the behaviour of these pretended ladies, than recollection and abhorrence have helped me since to see, I began to reproach myself, that I had not at first thrown myself into their protection.
But amidst all these delightful prospects, I must not, said the Lady Betty, forget that I am to go to town.
She then ordered her coach to be got to the door.—We will all go to town together, said she, and return together. Morrison shall stay here, and see every thing as I am used to have it, in relation to my apartment, and my bed; for I am very particular in some respects. My cousin Leeson’s servants can do all I want to be done with regard to my night-dresses, and the like. And it will be a little airing for you, my dear, and a want of your apparel to be sent from your former lodgings to Mrs. Leeson’s; and we can bring it up with us from thence.
I had no intention to comply. But as I did not imagine that she would insist upon my going to town with them, I made no answer to that part of her speech.
I must here lay down my tired pen!
Recollection! heart-affecting recollection! how it pains me!
LETTER LXIX
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE