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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 315 pages of information about Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady Volume 4.

I requested to see her upon it that moment.—­But she desires to suspend our interview till morning.  I will bring her to own, before I have done with her, that she can’t see me too often.

My impatience was so great, on an occasion so unexpected, that I could not help writing to tell her, ’how much vexed I was at the accident:  but that it need not delay my happy day, as that did not depend upon the house. [She knew that before, she’ll think; and so did I.] And as Mrs. Fretchville, by Mr. Mennell, so handsomely expressed her concern upon it, and her wishes that it could suit us to bear with the unavoidable delay, I hoped, that going down to The Lawn for two or three of the summer-months, when I was made the happiest of men, would be favourable to all round.’

The dear creature takes this incident to heart, I believe:  She has sent word to my repeated request to see her notwithstanding her denial, that she cannot till the morning:  it shall be then at six o’clock, if I please!

To be sure I do please!

Can see her but once a day now, Jack!

Did I tell thee, that I wrote a letter to my cousin Montague, wondering that I heard not from Lord M. as the subject was so very interesting!  In it I acquainted her with the house I was about taking; and with Mrs. Fretchville’s vapourish delays.

I was very loth to engage my own family, either man or woman, in this affair; but I must take my measures securely:  and already they all think as bad of me as they well can.  You observe by my Lord M.’s letter to yourself, that the well-manner’d peer is afraid I should play this admirable creature one of my usual dog’s tricks.

I have received just now an answer from Charlotte.

Charlot i’n’t well.  A stomach disorder!

No wonder a girl’s stomach should plague her.  A single woman; that’s it.  When she has a man to plague, it will have something besides itself to prey upon.  Knowest thou not moreover, that man is the woman’s sun; woman is the man’s earth?—­How dreary, how desolate, the earth, that the suns shines not upon!

Poor Charlotte!  But I heard she was not well:  that encouraged me to write to her; and to express myself a little concerned, that she had not, of her own accord, thought of a visit in town to my charmer.

Here follows a copy of her letter.  Thou wilt see by it that every little monkey is to catechise me.  They all depend upon my good-nature.

M. HALL, MAY 22.

Dear cousin,

We have been in daily hope for a long time, I must call it, of hearing that the happy knot was tied.  My Lord has been very much out of order:  and yet nothing would serve him, but he would himself write an answer to your letter.  It was the only opportunity he should ever have, perhaps, to throw in a little good advice to you, with the hope of its being of any signification; and he has been several hours in a day, as his gout would let him, busied in it.  It wants now only his last revisal.  He hopes it will have the greater weight with you, as it appear all in his own hand-writing.

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