LETTER XXIX

  MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON.

  Disappointed in her meditated escape; obliged, against her will, tomeet me in the dining-room; and perhaps apprehensive of being upbraidedfor her art in feigning herself ill; I expected that the dear perversewould begin with me with spirit and indignation. But I was in hopes,from the gentleness of her natural disposition; from the considerationwhich I expected from her on her situation; from the contents of theletter of Captain Tomlinson, which Dorcas told me she had seen; andfrom the time she had had to cool and reflect since she last admittedme to her presence, that she would not have carried it so stronglythrough as she did.

  As I entered the dining-room, I congratulated her and myself upon hersudden recovery. And would have taken her hand, with an air ofrespectful tenderness; but she was resolved to begin where she leftoff.

  She turned from me, drawing in her hand, with a repulsing and indignantaspect--I meet you once more, said she, because I cannot help it. Whathave you to say to me? Why am I to be thus detained against my will?

  With the utmost solemnity of speech and behaviour, I urged the ceremony.I saw I had nothing else for it. I had a letter in my pocket I said,[feeling for it, although I had not taken it from the table where I leftit in the same room,] the contents of which, if attended to, would makeus both happy. I had been loth to show it to her before, because I hopedto prevail upon her to be mine sooner than the day mentioned in it.

  I felt for it in all my pockets, watching her eye mean time, which I sawglance towards the table where it lay.

  I was uneasy that I could not find it--at last, directed again by her slyeye, I spied it on the table at the farther end of the room.

  With joy I fetched it. Be pleased to read that letter, Madam; with anair of satisfied assurance.

  She took it, and cast her eye over it, in such a careless way, as made itevident, that she had read it before: and then unthankfully tossed itinto the window-seat before her.

  I urged her to bless me to-morrow, or Friday morning; at least, that shewould not render vain her uncle's journey, and kind endeavours to bringabout a reconciliation among us all.

  Among us all! repeated she, with an air equally disdainful andincredulous. O Lovelace, thou art surely nearly allied to the granddeceiver, in thy endeavour to suit temptations to inclinations?--But whathonour, what faith, what veracity, were it possible that I could enterinto parley with thee on this subject, (which it is not,) may I expectfrom such a man as thou hast shown thyself to be?

  I was touched to the quick. A lady of your perfect character, Madam, whohas feigned herself sick, on purpose to avoid seeing the man who adoredher, should not--

  I know what thou wouldst say, interrupted she--Twenty and twenty lowthings, that my soul would have been above being guilty of, and which Ihave despised myself for, have I been brought into by the infection ofthy company, and by the necessity thou hadst laid me under, of appearingmean. But, I thank God, destitute as I am, that I am not, however, sunkso low, as to wish to be thine.

  I, Madam, as the injurer, ought to have patience. It is for the injuredto reproach. But your uncle is not in a plot against you, it is to behoped. There are circumstances in the letter you cast your eyes over----

  Again she interrupted me, Why, once more I ask you, am I detained in thishouse?--Do I not see myself surrounded by wretches, who, though they wearthe habit of my sex, may yet, as far as I know, lie in wait for myperdition?

  She would be very loth, I said, that Mrs. Sinclair and her nieces shouldbe called up to vindicate themselves and their house.

  Would but they kill me, let them come, and welcome, I will bless the handthat will strike the blow! Indeed I will.

  'Tis idle, very idle, to talk of dying. Mere young-lady talk, whencontrouled by those they hate. But let me beseech you, dearest creature----

  Beseech me nothing. Let me not be detained thus against my will!--Unhappy creature that I am, said she, in a kind of phrensy, wringing herhands at the same time, and turning from me, her eyes lifted up! 'Thycurse, O my cruel father, seems to be now in the height of its operation!--My weakened mind is full of forebodings, that I am in the way of beinga lost creature as to both worlds! Blessed, blessed God, said she,falling on her knees, save me, O save me, from myself and from this man!'

  I sunk down on my knees by her, excessively affecting--O that I couldrecall yesterday!--Forgive me, my dearest creature, forgive what is past,as it cannot now, but by one way, be retrieved. Forgive me only on thiscondition--That my future faith and honour--

  She interrupted me, rising--If you mean to beg of me never to seek toavenge myself by law, or by an appeal to my relations, to my cousinMorden in particular, when he comes to England----

  D--n the law, rising also, [she started,] and all those to whom you talkof appealing!--I defy both the one and the other--All I beg is YOURforgiveness; and that you will, on my unfeigned contrition, re-establishme in your favour----

  O no, no, no! lifting up her clasped hands, I never never will, never,never can forgive you!--and it is a punishment worse than death to me,that I am obliged to meet you, or to see you.

  This is the last time, my dearest life, that you will ever see me in thisposture, on this occasion: and again I kneeled to her. Let me hope, thatyou will be mine next Thursday, your uncle's birth-day, if not before.Would to Heaven I had never been a villain! Your indignation is not,cannot be greater, than my remorse--and I took hold of her gown for shewas going from me.

  Be remorse thy portion!--For thine own sake, be remorse thy portion!--Inever, never will forgive thee!--I never, never will be thine!--Let meretire!--Why kneelest thou to the wretch whom thou hast so vilely humbled?

  Say but, dearest creature, you will consider--say but you will take timeto reflect upon what the honour of both our families requires of you. Iwill not rise. I will not permit you to withdraw [still holding hergown] till you tell me you will consider.--Take this letter. Weigh wellyour situation, and mine. Say you will withdraw to consider; and then Iwill not presume to withold [sic] you.

  Compulsion shall do nothing with me. Though a slave, a prisoner, incircumstance, I am no slave in my will!--Nothing will I promise thee!--Withheld, compelled--nothing will I promise thee!

  Noble creature! but not implacable, I hope!--Promise me but to return inan hour!

  Nothing will I promise thee!

  Say but that you will see me again this evening!

  O that I could say--that it were in my power to say--I never will seethee more!--Would to Heaven I never were to see thee more!

  Passionate beauty!--still holding her--

  I speak, though with vehemence, the deliberate wish of my heart.--O thatI could avoid looking down upon thee, mean groveler, and abject asinsulting--Let me withdraw! My soul is in tumults! Let we [sic]withdraw!

  I quitted my hold to clasp my hands together--Withdraw, O sovereign of myfate!--Withdraw, if you will withdraw! My destiny is in your power!--Itdepends upon your breath!--Your scorn but augments my love! Yourresentment is but too well founded!--But, dearest creature, return,return, return, with a resolution to bless with pardon and peace yourfaithful adorer!

  She flew from me. The angel, as soon as she found her wings, flew fromme. I, the reptile kneeler, the despicable slave, no more the proudvictor, arose; and, retiring, tried to comfort myself, that,circumstanced as she is, destitute of friends and fortune; her unclemoreover, who is to reconcile all so soon, (as I thank my stars she stillbelieves,) expected.

  O that she would forgive me!--Would she but generously forgive me, andreceive my vows at the altar, at the instant of her forgiving me, that Imight not have time to relapse into my old prejudices! By my soul,Belford, this dear girl gives the lie to all our rakish maxims. Theremust be something more than a name in virtue!--I now see that there is!--Once subdued, always subdued--'Tis an egregious falsehood!--But, O Jack,she never was subdued. What have I obtained but an increase of
shame andconfusion!--While her glory has been established by her sufferings!

  This one merit is, however, left me, that I have laid all her sex underobligation to me, by putting this noble creature to trials, which, sogloriously supported, have done honour to them all.

  However--But no more will I add--What a force have evil habits!--I willtake an airing, and try to fly from myself!--Do not thou upbraid me on myweak fits--on my contradictory purposes--on my irresolution--and all willbe well.