Now, Belford, I thought it would be but kind in me to save Miss Howe’s concern on these alarming hints; since the curiosity of such a spirit must have been prodigiously excited by them.  Having therefore so good a copy to imitate, I wrote; and, taking out that of my beloved, put under the same cover the following short billet; inscriptive and conclusive parts of it in her own words.

HAMPSTEAD, TUES.  EVEN.

My ever-dear miss howe,

A few lines only, till calmer spirits and quieter fingers be granted me, and till I can get over the shock which your intelligence has given me—­ to acquaint you—­that your kind long letter of Wednesday, and, as I may say, of Thursday morning, is come safe to my hands.  On receipt of your’s by my messenger to you, I sent for it from Wilson’s.  There, thank Heaven! it lay.  May that Heaven reward you for all your past, and for all your intended goodness to

Your for-ever obliged,
Cl.  Harlowe.

***

I took great pains in writing this.  It cannot, I hope, be suspected.  Her hand is so very delicate.  Yet her’s is written less beautifully than she usually writes:  and I hope Miss Howe will allow somewhat for hurry of spirits, and unsteady fingers.

My consideration for Miss Howe’s ease of mind extended still farther than to the instance I have mentioned.

That this billet might be with her as soon as possible, (and before it could have reached Hickman by the post,) I dispatched it away by a servant of Mowbray’s.  Miss Howe, had there been any failure or delay, might, as thou wilt think, have communicated her anxieties to her fugitive friend; and she to me perhaps in a way I should not have been pleased with.

Once more wilt thou wonderingly question—­All this pains for a single girl?

Yes, Jack—­But is not this girl a Clarissa?—­And who knows, but kind fortune, as a reward for my perseverance, may toss me in her charming friend?  Less likely things have come to pass, Belford.  And to be sure I shall have her, if I resolve upon it.

LETTER XXXII

Mr. Lovelace, to John Belford, Esq. 
Eight o’clock, sat.  Morn.  June 10.

I am come back from Mrs. Moore’s, whither I went in order to attend my charmer’s commands.  But no admittance—­a very bad night.

Doubtless she must be as much concerned that she has carried her resentments so very far, as I have reason to be that I made such poor use of the opportunity I had on Wednesday night.

But now, Jack, for a brief review of my present situation; and a slight hint or two of my precautions.

I have seen the women this morning, and find them half-right, half-doubting.