This was not the way, as it proved, to be taken with a man of Mr Lovelace’s penetration, for matters of mere omission—nor with any man; since if love has not taken root deep enough to cause it to shoot out into declaration, if an opportunity be fairly given for it, there is little room to expect that the blighting winds of anger or resentment will bring it forward. Then my poor sister is not naturally good-humoured. This is too well-known a truth for me to endeavour to conceal it, especially from you. She must therefore, I doubt, have appeared to great disadvantage when she aimed to be worse-tempered than ordinary.

How they managed it in this conversation I know not. One would be tempted to think by the issue that Mr Lovelace was ungenerous enough to seek the occasion given and to improve it. Yet he thought fit to put the question too. But, she says, it was not till by some means or other (she knew not how) he had wrought her up to such a pitch of displeasure with him that it was impossible for her to recover herself at the instant. Nevertheless he re-urged his question, as expecting a definitive answer, without waiting for the return of her temper, or endeavouring to mollify her; so that she was under a necessity of persisting in her denial; yet gave him reason to think that she did not dislike his address, only the manner of it; his court being rather made to her mamma than to herself, as if he were sure of her consent at any time.

A good encouraging denial, I must own—as was the rest of her plea, to wit, ‘a disinclination to change her state. Exceedingly happy as she was, she never could be happier!’

Here I am obliged to lay down my pen. I will soon resume it.

Letter 3: MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE TO MISS HOWE

Jan. 13, 14

And thus, as Mr Lovelace thought fit to take it, had he his answer from my sister. It was with very great regret, as he pretended (I doubt the man is a hypocrite, my dear!), that he acquiesced in it. ‘So much determinedness; such a noble firmness in my sister; that there was no hope of prevailing upon her to alter sentiments she had adopted on full consideration.’ He sighed, as Bella told us, when he took his leave of her: ‘Profoundly sighed: grasped her hand and kissed it with such an ardour—withdrew with such an air of solemn respect—she had him then before her. She could almost find in her heart, although he had vexed her, to pity him.’

He waited on my mamma after he had taken leave of Bella, and reported his ill success in so respectful a manner, both with regard to my sister and to the whole family, and with so much concern that he was not accepted as a relation to it, that it left upon them all (my brother being then, as I have said, in Scotland) impressions in his favour, and a belief that this matter would certainly be brought on again. But Mr Lovelace going up directly to town, where he stayed a whole fortnight, and meeting there with my uncle Antony, to whom he regretted his niece’s unhappy resolution not to change her state, it was seen that there was a total end put to the affair.

My sister was not wanting to herself on this occasion, but made a virtue of necessity; and the man was quite another man with her. ‘A vain creature! Too well knowing his advantages; yet those not what she had conceived them to be! Cool and warm by fits and starts; an ague-like lover. A steady man, a man of virtue, a man of morals was worth a thousand of such gay flutterers. Her sister Clary might think it worth her while perhaps to try to engage such a man; she had patience; she was mistress of persuasion; and indeed, to do the girl justice, had something of a person. But as for her, she would not have a man of whose heart she could not be sure for one moment; no, not for the world; and most sincerely glad was she that she had rejected him.’

But when Mr Lovelace returned into the country, he thought fit to visit my papa and mamma, hoping, as he told them, that however unhappy he had been in the rejection of the wished-for alliance, he might be allowed to keep up an acquaintance and friendship with a family which he should always respect. And then, unhappily, as I may say, was I at home, and present.

It was immediately observed that his attention was fixed on me. My sister, as soon as he was gone, in a spirit of bravery, seemed desirous to promote his address, should it be tendered.

My aunt Hervey was there, and was pleased to say we should make the finest couple in England, if my sister had no objection. No, indeed! with a haughty toss, was my sister’s reply. It would be strange if she had, after the denial she had given him upon full deliberation.

My mamma declared that her only dislike of his alliance with either daughter was on account of his faulty morals.

My uncle Harlowe, that his daughter Clary, as he delighted to call me from childhood, would reform him if any woman in the world could.

My uncle Antony gave his approbation in high terms; but referred, as my aunt had done, to my sister.

She repeated her contempt of him, and declared that were there not another man in England she would not have him. She was ready, on the contrary, she could assure them, to resign her pretensions under hand and seal, if Miss Clary were taken with his tinsel, and if everyone else approved of his address to the girl.

My papa, indeed, after a long silence, being urged to speak his mind by my uncle Antony, said that he had a letter from his son James, on his hearing of Mr Lovelace’s visits to his daughter Arabella, which he had not shown to anybody but my mamma, that treaty being at an end when he received it; that in this letter he expressed great dislikes to an alliance with Mr Lovelace on the score of his immoralities; that he knew, indeed, there was an old grudge between them; that, being desirous to prevent all occasions of disunion and animosity in his family, he would suspend the declaration of his own mind, till his son arrived and till he had heard his further objections; that he was the more inclined to make his son this compliment, as Mr Lovelace’s general character gave but too much ground for his son’s dislike of him, adding, that he had heard (so he supposed had everyone) that he was a very extravagant man; that he had contracted debts in his travels; and, indeed, he was pleased to say, he had the air of a spendthrift.

These particulars I had partly from my aunt Hervey, and partly from my sister; for I was called out as soon as the subject was entered upon. And when I returned, my uncle Antony asked me how I should like Mr Lovelace? Everybody saw, he was pleased to say, that I had made a conquest.

I immediately answered, Not at all: he seemed to have too good an opinion both of his person and parts to have any great regard to his wife, let him marry whom he would.

My sister particularly was pleased with this answer, and confirmed it to be just; with a compliment to my judgement—for it was hers.

But the very next day Lord M. came to Harlowe Place: I was then absent: and in his nephew’s name, made a proposal in form, declaring that it was the ambition of all his family to be related to ours; and he hoped his kinsman would not have such an answer on the part of the younger sister as he had had on that of the elder.

In short, Mr Lovelace’s visits were admitted as those of a man who had not deserved disrespect from our family; but, as to his address to me, with a reservation as above on my papa’s part, that he would determine nothing without his son. My discretion, as to the rest, was confided in; for still I had the same objections as to the man: nor would I when we were better acquainted hear anything but general talk from him, giving him no opportunity of conversing with me in private.

He bore this with a resignation little expected from his natural temper, which is generally reported to be quick and hasty, unused it seems from childhood to check or control: a case too common in considerable families where there is an only son; and his mother never had any other child. But, as I have heretofore told you, I could perceive notwithstanding this resignation that he had so good an opinion of himself, as not to doubt that his person and accomplishments would insensibly engage me; and could that be once done, he told my aunt Hervey, he should hope from so steady a temper that his hold in my affections would be durable. While my sister accounted for his patience in another manner, which would perhaps have had more force if it had come from a person less prejudiced: ‘That the man was not fond of marrying at all; that he might perhaps have half-a-score mistresses; and that delay might be as convenient for his roving, as for my well-acted indifference.’ That was her kind expression.

And thus was he admitted to converse with our family almost upon his own terms; for while my friends saw nothing in his behaviour but what was extremely respectful and observed in him no violent importunity, they seemed to have taken a great liking to his conversation; while I considered him only as a common guest when he came, and thought myself no more concerned in his visits, nor at his entrance or departure, than any other of the family.

But this indifference of my side was the means of procuring him one very great advantage; for upon it was grounded that correspondence by letters which succeeded—and which, had it been to be begun when the family animosity broke out, would never have been entered into on my part. The occasion was this:

My uncle Hervey has a young gentleman entrusted to his care, whom he has thoughts of sending abroad a year or two hence, to make the Grand Tour, as it is called; and finding Mr Lovelace could give a good account of everything necessary for a young traveller to observe upon such an occasion, he desired him to write down a description of the courts and countries he had visited, and what was most worthy of curiosity in them.

He consented, on condition that I would direct his subjects, as he called it: and as everyone had heard his manner of writing commended, and thought his relations might be agreeable amusements in winter evenings; and that he could have no opportunity particularly to address me in them, since they were to be read in full assembly before they were to be given to the young gentleman, I made the less scruple to write, and to make observations and put questions for our further information.