, I had often forbid her corresponding with the poor fallen angel
--for surely never did young lady more resemble what we imagine of
angels, both in person and mind. But, tired out with her headstrong
ways, [I am sorry to say this of my own child,] I was forced to give way
to it again. And, indeed, so sturdy was she in her will, that I was
afraid it would end in a fit of sickness, as too often it did in fits of
sullens.

None but parents know the trouble that children give. They are happiest,
I have often thought, who have none. And these women-grown girls, bless
my heart! how ungovernable!

I believe, however, you will have no more such letters from my Nancy. I
have been forced to use compulsion with her upon Miss Clary's illness,
[and it seems she is very bad,] or she would have run away to London, to
attend upon her: and this she calls doing the duty of a friend;
forgetting that she sacrifices to her romantic friendship her duty to her
fond indulgent mother.

There are a thousand excellencies in the poor sufferer, notwithstanding
her fault: and, if the hints she has given to my daughter be true, she
has been most grievously abused. But I think your forgiveness and her
father's forgiveness of her ought to be all at your own choice; and
nobody should intermeddle in that, for the sake of due authority in
parents: and besides, as Miss Harlowe writes, it was what every body
expected, though Miss Clary would not believe it till she smarted for her
credulity. And, fir these reasons, I offer not to plead any thing in
alleviation of her fault, which is aggravated by her admirable sense, and
a judgment above her years.

I am, Madam, with compliments to good Mr. Harlowe, and all your afflicted
family,

Your most humble servant,
ANNABELLA HOWE.

I shall set out for the Isle of Wight in a few days, with my daughter. I
will hasten our setting out, on purpose to break her mind from her
friend's distresses; which afflict us as much, nearly, as Miss
Clary's rashness has done you.

LETTER XL

MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE
SAT. JULY 22.

MY DEAREST FRIEND,

We are busy in preparing for our little journey and voyage: but I will be
ill, I will be very ill, if I cannot hear you are better before I go.

Rogers greatly afflicted me, by telling me the bad way you are in. But
now you have been able to hold a pen, and as your sense is strong and
clear, I hope that the amusement you will