bey and oblige
your friends. Entreaty is at an end: they give it up. Now it is resolved
upon, that your father's will is to be obeyed; as it is fit it should.
Some things are laid at your door, as if you concurred with Lovelace's
threatened violence to carry you off, which your mother will not
believe. She will tell you her own good opinion of you. She will tell
you how much she still loves you; and what she expects of you on
the approaching occasion. But yet, that she may not be exposed to an
opposition which would the more provoke her, she desires that you will
first assure her that you go down with a resolution to do that with a
grace which must be done with or without a grace. And besides, she wants
to give you some advice how to proceed in order to reconcile yourself
to your father, and to every body else. Will you go down, Miss Clary, or
will you not?

I said, I should think myself happy, could I be admitted to my mother's
presence, after so long a banishment from it; but that I could not wish
it upon those terms.

And this is your answer, Niece?

It must be my answer, Madam. Come what may, I never will have Mr.
Solmes. It is cruel to press this matter so often upon me.--I never will
have that man.

Down she went with displeasure. I could not help it. I was quite tired
with so many attempts, all to the same purpose. I am amazed that they
are not!--So little variation! and no concession on either side!

I will go down and deposit this; for Betty has seen I have been writing.
The saucy creature took a napkin, and dipt it in water, and with a
fleering air, here, Miss; holding the wet corner to me.

What's that for? said I.

Only, Miss, one of the fingers of your right-hand, if you please to look
at it.

It was inky.

I gave her a look; but said nothing.

But, lest I should have another search, I will close here.

CL. HARLOWE.

LETTER XLI

MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE FRIDAY, ONE O'CLOCK.

I have a letter from Mr. Lovelace, full of transports, vows, and
promises. I will send it to you enclosed. You'll see how 'he engages
in it for Lady Betty's protection, and for Miss Charlotte Montague's
accompanying me. I have nothing to do, but to persevere, he says, and
prepare to receive the personal congratulations of his whole family.'

But you'll see how he presumes upon my being his, as the consequence of
throwing myself into that lady's protection.

'The chariot and six is to be ready a