She says, I am not a polite man.  But is she, in the instance before us, more polite for a woman?

And now, dost thou not think that I owe my charmer some revenge for her cruelty in obliging such a fine young creature, and so vast a fortune, as Miss Partington, to crowd into a press-bed with Dorcas the maid-servant of the proud refuser?—­Miss Partington too (with tears) declared, by Mrs. Sinclair, that would Mrs. Lovelace do her the honour of a visit at Barnet, the best bed and best room in her guardian’s house should be at her service.  Thinkest thou that I could not guess at her dishonourable fears of me?—­that she apprehended, that the supposed husband would endeavour to take possession of his own?—­and that Miss Partington would be willing to contribute to such a piece of justice?

Thus, then, thou both remindest, and defiest me, charmer!—­And since thou reliest more on thy own precaution than upon my honour; be it unto thee, fair one, as thou apprehendest.

And now, Jack, let me know, what thy opinion, and the opinions of thy brother varlets, are of my Gloriana.

I have just now heard, that Hannah hopes to be soon well enough to attend her young lady, when in London.  It seems the girl has had no physician.  I must send her one, out of pure love and respect to her mistress.  Who knows but medicine may weaken nature, and strengthen the disease?—­As her malady is not a fever, very likely it may do so.—­But perhaps the wench’s hopes are too forward.  Blustering weather in this month yet.—­And that is bad for rheumatic complaints.

LETTER XIV

Mr. Lovelace, to John Belford, Esq. 
Tuesday, may 2.

Just as I had sealed up the enclosed, comes a letter to my beloved, in a cover to me, directed to Lord M.’s.  From whom, thinkest thou?—­From Mrs. Howe!

And what the contents?

How should I know, unless the dear creature had communicated them to me?  But a very cruel letter I believe it is, by the effect it had upon her.  The tears ran down her cheeks as she read it; and her colour changed several times.  No end of her persecutions, I think!

‘What a cruelty in my fate!’ said the sweet lamenter.—­’Now the only comfort of my life must be given up!’

Miss Howe’s correspondence, no doubt.

But should she be so much grieved at this?  This correspondence was prohibited before, and that, to the daughter, in the strongest terms:  but yet carried on by both; although a brace of impeccables, an’t please ye.  Could they expect, that a mother would not vindicate her authority? —­and finding her prohibition ineffectual with her perverse daughter, was it not reasonable to suppose she would try what effect it would have upon her daughter’s friend?—­And now I believe the end will be effectually answered:  for my beloved, I dare say, will make a point of conscience of it.