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<h2> LETTER XLIV </h2>
<p>MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE [THE PRECEDING LETTER NOT RECEIVED.]
SATURDAY AFTERNOON.</p>
<p>Already have I an ecstatic answer, as I may call it, to my letter.</p>
<p>'He promises compliance with my will in every article: approves of all I
propose; particularly of the private lodging: and thinks it a happy
expedient to obviate the censures of the busy and the unreflecting: and
yet he hopes, that the putting myself into the protection of either of his
aunts, (treated as I am treated,) would be far from being looked upon by
any body in a disreputable light. But every thing I enjoin or resolve upon
must, he says, be right, not only with respect to my present but future
reputation; with regard to which, he hopes so to behave himself, as to be
allowed to be, next to myself, more properly solicitous than any body. He
will only assure me, that his whole family are extremely desirous to take
advantage of the persecutions I labour under to make their court, and
endear themselves to me, by their best and most cheerful services: happy
if they can in any measure contribute to my present freedom and future
happiness.</p>
<p>'He will this afternoon, he says, write to Lord M. and to Lady Betty and
Lady Sarah, that he is now within view of being the happiest man in the
world, if it be not his own fault; since the only woman upon earth that
can make him so will be soon out of danger of being another man's; and
cannot possibly prescribe any terms to him that he shall not think it his
duty to comply with.</p>
<p>'He flatters himself now (my last letter confirming my resolution) that he
can be in no apprehension of my changing my mind, unless my friends change
their manner of acting by me; which he is too sure they will not.* And now
will all his relations, who take such a kind and generous share in his
interests, glory and pride themselves in the prospects he has before him.'</p>
<p>* Well might he be so sure, when he had the art to play them<br/>
off, by his corrupted agent, and to make them all join to<br/>
promote his views unknown to themselves; as is shewn in some<br/>
of his preceding letters.<br/></p>
<p>Thus does he hold me to it.</p>
<p>'As to fortune, he begs me not to be solicitous on that score: that his
own estate is sufficient for us both; not a nominal, but a real, two
thousand pounds per annum, equivalent to some estates reputed a third
more: that it never was encumbered; that he is clear of the world, both as
to book and bond debts; thanks, perhaps, to his pride, more than to his
virtue: that Lord M. moreover resolves to settle upon him a thousand
pounds per annum on his nuptials. And to this, he will have it, his
lordship is instigated more by motives of justice than of generosity; as
he must consider it was but an equivalent for an estate which he had got
possession of, to which his (Mr. Lovelace's) mother had better
pretensions. That his lordship also proposed to give him up either his
seat in Hertfordshire, or that in Lancashire, at his own or at his wife's
option, especially if I am the person. All which it will be in my power to
see done, and proper settlements drawn, before I enter into any farther
engagements with him; if I will have it so.'</p>
<p>He says, 'That I need not be under any solicitude as to apparel: all
immediate occasions of that sort will be most cheerfully supplied by the
ladies of his family: as my others shall, with the greatest pride and
pleasure (if I allow him that honour) by himself.</p>
<p>'He assures me, that I shall govern him as I please, with regard to any
thing in his power towards effecting a reconciliation with my friends:' a
point he knows my heart is set upon.</p>
<p>'He is afraid, that the time will hardly allow of his procuring Miss
Charlotte Montague's attendance upon me, at St. Alban's, as he had
proposed she should; because, he understands, she keeps her chamber with a
violent cold and sore throat. But both she and her sister, the first
moment she is able to go abroad, shall visit me at my private lodgings;
and introduce me to Lady Sarah and Lady Betty, or those ladies to me, as I
shall choose; and accompany me to town, if I please; and stay as long in
it with me as I shall think fit to stay there.</p>
<p>'Lord M. will also, at my own time, and in my own manner, (that is to say,
either publicly or privately,) make me a visit. And, for his own part,
when he has seen me in safety, either in their protection, or in the
privacy I prefer, he will leave me, and not attempt to visit me but by my
own permission.</p>
<p>'He had thought once, he says, on hearing of his cousin Charlotte's
indisposition, to have engaged his cousin Patty's attendance upon me,
either in or about the neighbouring village, or at St. Alban's: but, he
says, she is a low-spirited, timorous girl, and would but the more have
perplexed us.'</p>
<p>So, my dear, the enterprise requires courage and high spirits, you see!—And
indeed it does!—What am I about to do!</p>
<p>He himself, it is plain, thinks it necessary that I should be accompanied
with one of my own sex.—He might, at least, have proposed the woman
of one of the ladies of his family.—Lord bless me!—What am I
about to do!—</p>
<hr />
<p>After all, as far as I have gone, I know not but I may still recede: and,
if I do, a mortal quarrel I suppose will ensue.—And what if it does?—Could
there be any way to escape this Solmes, a breach with Lovelace might make
way for the single life to take place, which I so much prefer: and then I
would defy the sex. For I see nothing but trouble and vexation that they
bring upon ours: and when once entered, one is obliged to go on with them,
treading, with tender feet, upon thorns, and sharper thorns, to the end of
a painful journey.</p>
<p>What to do I know not. The more I think, the more I am embarrassed!—And
the stronger will be my doubts as the appointed time draws near.</p>
<p>But I will go down, and take a little turn in the garden; and deposit
this, and his letters all but the two last, which I will enclose in my
next, if I have opportunity to write another.</p>
<p>Mean time, my dear friend——But what can I desire you to pray
for?—Adieu, then!—Let me only say—Adieu—!</p>
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