Your true friend,
Clarissa Harlowe.

LETTER LIV

Hannah Burton [in answer.] Monday, July 3.

HONORED MADDAM,

I have not forgot to write, and never will forget any thing you, my dear young lady, was so good as to larn me.  I am very sorrowful for your misfortens, my dearest young lady; so sorrowfull, I do not know what to do.  Gladd at harte would I be to be able to come to you.  But indeed I have not been able to stir out of my rome here at my mother’s ever since I was forsed to leave my plase with a roomatise, which has made me quite and clene helpless.  I will pray for you night and day, my dearest, my kindest, my goodest young lady, who have been so badly used; and I am very sorry I cannot come to do you love and sarvice; which will ever be in the harte of mee to do, if it was in my power:  who am

Your most dutiful servant to command,
Hannah Burton.

LETTER LV

Miss Clarissa Harlowe, to Mrs. Judith Norton
Thursday, June 29.

MY DEAR MRS. NORTON,

I address myself to you, after a very long silence, (which, however, was not owing either to want of love or duty,) principally to desire you to satisfy me in two or three points, which it behoves me to know.

My father, and all the family, I am informed, are to be at my uncle Harlowe’s this day, as usual.  Pray acquaint me, if they have been there?  And if they were cheerful on the anniversary occasion?  And also, if you have heard of any journey, or intended journey, of my brother, in company with Captain Singleton and Mr. Solmes?

Strange things have happened to me, my dear, worthy and maternal friend—­ very strange things!—­Mr. Lovelace has proved a very barbarous and ungrateful man to me.  But, God be praised, I have escaped from him.  Being among absolute strangers (though I think worthy folks) I have written to Hannah Burton to come and be with me.  If the good creature fall in your way, pray encourage her to come to me.  I always intended to have her, she knows:  but hoped to be in happier circumstances.

Say nothing to any of my friends that you have heard from me.

Pray, do you think my father would be prevailed upon, if I were to supplicate him by letter, to take off the heavy curse he laid upon me at my going from Harlowe-place?  I can expect no other favour from him.  But that being literally fulfilled as to my prospects in this life, I hope it will be thought to have operated far enough; and my heart is so weak!—­it is very weak!—­But for my father’s own sake—­what should I say!—­Indeed I hardly know how I ought to express myself on this sad subject!—­but it will give ease to my mind to be released from it.