own to be preferable as to
person) would not approve of it; and could I have succeeded, you,
Clary, had never heard of it. But if I could not, how can you expect
to prevail? My great ends in the task I have undertaken, are the
preservation of the family peace so likely to be overturned; to
reinstate you in the affections of your father and uncles: and to
preserve you from a man of violence.--Your father, you must needs think
will flame out upon your refusal to comply: your uncles are so

thoroughly convinced of the consistency of the measure with their
favourite views of aggrandizing the family, that they are as much
determined as your father: your aunt Hervey and your uncle Hervey are of
the same party. And it is hard, if a father and mother, and uncles, and
aunt, all conjoined, cannot be allowed to direct your choice--surely, my
dear girl, proceeded she [for I was silent all this time], it cannot be
that you are the more averse, because the family views will be promoted
by the match--this, I assure you, is what every body must think, if
you comply not. Nor, while the man, so obnoxious to us all, remains
unmarried, and buzzes about you, will the strongest wishes to live
single, be in the least regarded. And well you know, that were Mr.
Lovelace an angel, and your father had made it a point that you should
not have him, it would be in vain to dispute his will. As to the
prohibition laid upon you (much as I will own against my liking), that
is owing to the belief that you corresponded by Miss Howe's means with
that man; nor do I doubt that you did so.

I answered to every article, in such a manner, as I am sure would have
satisfied her, could she have been permitted to judge for herself; and I
then inveighed with bitterness against the disgraceful prohibitions laid
upon me.

They would serve to shew me, she was pleased to say, how much in earnest
my father was. They might be taken off, whenever I thought fit, and no
harm done, nor disgrace received. But if I were to be contumacious, I
might thank myself for all that would follow.

I sighed. I wept. I was silent.

Shall I, Clary, said she, shall I tell your father that these
prohibitions are as unnecessary as I hoped they would be? That you know
your duty, and will not offer to controvert his will? What say you, my
love?

O Madam, what can I say to questions so indulgently put? I do indeed
know my duty: no creature in the world is more willing to practise
it: but