She owes me her consent; for hitherto I have had nothing to boast of.  All of my side, has been deep remorse, anguish of mind, and love increased rather than abated.

How her proud rejection stings me!—­And yet I hope still to get her to listen to my stories of the family-reconciliation, and of her uncle and Capt.  Tomlinson—­and as she has given me a pretence to detain her against her will, she must see me, whether in temper or not.—­She cannot help it.  And if love will not do, terror, as the women advise, must be tried.

A nice part, after all, has my beloved to act.  If she forgive me easily, I resume perhaps my projects:—­if she carry her rejection into violence, that violence may make me desperate, and occasion fresh violence.  She ought, since she thinks she has found the women out, to consider where she is.

I am confoundedly out of conceit with myself.  If I give up my contrivances, my joy in stratagem, and plot, and invention, I shall be but a common man; such another dull heavy creature as thyself.  Yet what does even my success in my machinations bring me but regret, disgrace, repentance?  But I am overmatched, egregiously overmatched, by this woman.  What to do with her, or without her, I know not.

LETTER XX

Mr. Lovelace, to John Belford, ESQ.

I have this moment intelligence from Simon Parsons, one of Lord M.’s stewards, that his Lordship is very ill.  Simon, who is my obsequious servant, in virtue of my presumptive heirship, gives me a hint in his letter, that my presence at M. Hall will not be amiss.  So I must accelerate, whatever be the course I shall be allowed or compelled to take.

No bad prospects for this charming creature, if the old peer would be so kind as to surrender; and many a summons has this gout given him.  A good 8000L. a-year, and perhaps the title reversionary, or a still higher, would help me up with her.

Proudly as this lady pretends to be above all pride, grandeur will have its charms with her; for grandeur always makes a man’s face shine in a woman’s eye.  I have a pretty good, because a clear, estate, as it is.  But what a noble variety of mischief will 8000L. a-year, enable a man to do?

Perhaps thou’lt say, I do already all that comes into my head; but that’s a mistake—­not one half I will assure thee.  And even good folks, as I have heard, love to have the power of doing mischief, whether they make use of it or not.  The late Queen Anne, who was a very good woman, was always fond of prerogative.  And her ministers, in her name, in more instances than one, made a ministerial use of this her foible.

***

But now, at last, am I to be admitted to the presence of my angry fair-one; after three denials, nevertheless; and a peremptory from me, by Dorcas, that I must see her in her chamber, if I cannot see her in the dining-room.