passionating me, as I thought, by her accent: But I heard not the words.
Such a strange perseverance in a measure so unreasonable! But my brother and sister are continually misreprefenting all I say and do; and I am deprived of the opportunity of defending myself!—My sister says[1], that had they thought me such a championess, they would not have engaged with me: And now, not knowing how to reconcile my supposed obstinacy with my general character, and natural temper, they seem to hope to tire me out, and resolve to vary their measures accordingly. My brother, you see,[2], is determin'd to carry this point, or to abandon Harlowe-place, and never to see it more:—So they are to lose a son, or to conquer a daughter—the perversest and most ingrateful that ever parents had!—This is the light he places things in: And has undertaken, it seems, to subdue me, if his advice be followed. It will be further try'd, that I am convinced of; and what will be their next measure, who can divine?
I shall dispatch, with this, my answer to yours of Sunday last; begun on Monday[3]; but which is not yet quite finish'd. It is too long to copy: I have not time for it. In it I have been very free with you, my dear, in more places than one. I cannot say, that I am pleas'd with all I have written:—Yet will not now alter it.—My mind is not at ease enough for the subject.—Don't be angry with me. Yet, if you can excuse one or two passages, it will be, because they were written by
Your Clarissa Harlowe.
END of VOL. I
