Chapter 13
Letter 13 of Clarissa Harlow, Volume 3. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Larry Wilson. Clarissa Harlow, Volume 3, by Samuel Richardson, Chapter 13.
Mr. Loveless to John Belford, Esquire, in continuation. Never was there such a pair of scribbling lovers as we, yet perhaps whom it so much concerns to keep from each other what each writes. She won't have anything else to do. I would if she had let me.
I am not reformed enough for a husband. Patience is a virtue, Lord M. says. Slow and sure is another of his sentences. If I had not a great deal of that virtue, I should not have waited the Harlow's own time of ripening
into execution of my plots upon themselves and upon their goddess daughter. My beloved has been writing to her saucy friend, I believe, all that has befallen her and what has passed between us hitherto. She will possibly have fine subjects for her pen if she be as minute as I am. I would not be so barbarous as to permit old Anthony to set Mrs.
Howe against her, did I not dread the consequences of the correspondence between the two young ladies. So lively the one, so vigilant, so prudent both, who would not wish to outwit such girls and to be able to twirl them round his finger. My charmer has written to her sister for her clothes, for some gold and for some of her books. What books can tell her more than she knows? But I can, so she had better study me. She may write. She must be obliged to me at last with
all her pride. Miss Howe, indeed, will be ready enough to supply her. But I question whether she can do it without her mother, who is as covetous as the grave. And my agent's agent, old Anthony, has already given the mother a hint which will make her jealous of pecuniaries. Besides, if Miss Howe has money by her, I can put her mother upon borrowing it of her. Nor blame me, Jack, for contrivances that have their foundation in generosity. Thou knowest my spirit, and that I
should be proud to lay an obligation upon my charmer to the amount of half, nay, to the whole of my estate. Lord M. has more for me than I can ever wish for. My predominant passion is girl, not gold. Nor value I this, but as it helps me to that, and gives me independence. I was forced to put it into the sweet novice's head, as well for my sake as for hers, lest we should be traceable by her direction, whither to direct the sending of her clothes, if they inclined to do her that
small piece of justice. If they do, I shall begin to dread a reconciliation and must be forced to muse for a contrivance or two to prevent it and to avoid mischief. For that, as I have told honest Joseph Lehman, is a great point with me. Thou wilt think me a sad fellow, I doubt. But are not all rakes, sad fellows? And art not thou to thy little power as bad as any? If thou does all that's in thy head and in thy heart to do, thou art worse than I, for I do not, I assure you. I proposed,
and she consented, that her clothes, or whatever else her relation should think fit to send her, should be directed to thy cousin Osgoods. Let a special messenger at my charge bring me any letter or portable parcel that shall come. If not portable, give me notice of it. But thou'll have no trouble of this sort from her relations, I dare be sworn. And in this assurance I will leave them, I think, to act upon their own heads. A man would have no more to answer for than needs must.
But one thing, while I think of it, which is of great importance to be attended to, you must hereafter write to me in character, as I shall do to you. It would be a confounded thing to be blown up by a train of my own lane.
And who knows what opportunities a man in love may have against himself. In changing a coat or a waistcoat, something might be forgotten. I once suffered that way. Then for the sexist curiosity, it is but remembering, in order to guard against it, that the name of their common mother was Eve. Another thing remember. I have changed my name,
changed it without an act of Parliament. Robert Huntingford, it is now. Continue, Esquire. It is a respectable addition, although every sorry fellow assumes it, almost to the banishment of the usual traveling one of captain, to be left till called for at the post-house at Hertford. Upon naming thee, she asked thy character. I gave thee a letter that thou deservest, in order to do credit to myself. Yet I told her that thou wert an awkward fellow, and this to do
credit to thee, that she may not, if ever she be to see thee, expect a cleverer man than she'll find. Yet thy apparent awkwardness befriends thee not a little, for wert thou a sightly mortal, people would discover nothing extraordinary in thee when they conversed with thee, whereas seeing a bear, they are surprised to find in thee anything that is like a man. Felicitate thyself then upon thy defects, which are evidently thy principal perfections, and which occasion thee
a distinction which otherwise thou wouldst never have. The lodgings we are in at present are not convenient. I was so delicate as to find fault with them as communicating with each other, because I knew she would, and I told her that were I sure she was safe from pursuit, I would leave her in them, since such was her earnest desire and expectation to go to London. She must be an infidel against all reason and appearances
if I do not banish even the shadow of mistrust from her heart. Here are two young likely girls, daughter of the widow Sorlings. That's the name of our landlady. I have only at present admired them in their dairy works. How greedily do the sex swallow praise.
Did I not once in the streets of London see a well-dressed, handsome girl laugh, bridle and visibly enjoy the praises of a sooty dog, a chimney sweeper, who with his empty sack across his shoulder, after giving her the way, stopped and held up his brush and shovel in admiration of her? Hey, gad girl, thought I, I despised thee as loveless. But were I the chimney sweeper, I could only contrive to get into thy presence my life to thy virtue, I would have thee.
So pleased was I with the young sorlings for the elegance of her works that I kissed her, and she made me a courtesy for my condescension, and blushed, and seemed sensible all over. Encouraging, yet innocently, she adjusted her handkerchief, and looked towards the door as much as to say she would not tell were I to kiss her again. Her eldest sister popped upon her. The conscious girl blushed again, and looked so confounded that
I made an excuse for her, which gratified both Mrs. Betty, said I. I have been so much pleased with the neatness of your dairy works that I could not help saluting your sister. You have your share of merit in them, I am sure. Give me leave. Good souls! I like them both. She courtesy, too. How I love a grateful temper. Oh, that my Clarissa were but half so acknowledging. I think I must get one of them to attend my charmer when she removes. The mother seems to
be a notable woman. She had not best, however, be too noticeable, since were she by suspicion to give me a face of difficulty to the matter, it would prepare me for a trial with one or both the daughters. Allow me a little Rodimonte, Jack, but really and truly my heart is fixed. I can think of no creature breathing of the sex but my Gloriana. End of letter 13.
