“’Oh, thou guileful betrayer!  Hadst thou not seemed beyond the possibility of forgiveness, I might have been induced to think of taking a wretched chance with a man so profligate.  But it would be criminal to bind my soul in covenant to a man allied to perdition.’

“‘Allied to perdition, madam?’

“But she would not hear me, and insisted upon being at her own disposal for the remainder of her short life.  She abhorred me in every light; and more particularly in that in which I offered myself to her acceptance.

“And saying this she flung from me, leaving me shocked and confounded at her part of a conversation which she began with such severe composure, and concluded with such sincere and unaffected indignation.  Now, Jack, to be thus hated and despised.”

III.—­The Death of Clarissa

In the absence of Lovelace from London Clarissa manages to escape from Mrs. Sinclair’s, and takes refuge in the house of Mrs. Smith, who keeps a glove shop in King Street, Covent Garden.  Her health is now ruined beyond recovery, and she is ready to die.  Belford discovers her retreat, and protects her from Lovelace.

Mr. Mowbray, a friend, to Robert Lovelace, Esq.: 

“June 29. Dear Lovelace,—­I have plaguey news to acquaint thee with.  Miss Harlowe is gone off.  Here’s the devil to pay.  I heartily condole with thee.  But it may turn out for the best.  They tell me thou wouldst have married her had she staid.  But I know thee better.

“Thine heartily,

“RICHARD MOWBRAY.”

Belford to Lovelace: 

“June 29. Thou hast heard the news.  Bad or good I know not which thou wilt deem it.

“How strong must be her resentment of the barbarous treatment she has received, that has made her hate the man she once loved, and rather than marry him to expose her disgrace to the world!”

Lovelace to Belford: 

“June 30. I am ruined, undone, destroyed.

“If thou canst find her out, and prevail upon her to consent, I will, in thy presence, marry her.  She cannot be long concealed; I have set all engines at work to find her out, and if I do, who will care to embroil themselves with a man of my figure, fortune, and resolution?”

Belford to Lovelace: 

“August 31. When I concluded my last, I hoped that my next attendance upon this surprising lady would furnish me with some particulars as agreeable as now could be hoped for from the declining way she is in; but I think I was never more shocked in my life than on the occasion I shall mention.

“When I attended her about seven in the evening, she had hardly spoken to me, when she started, and a blush overspread her sweet face on hearing, as I also did, a sort of lumbering noise upon the stairs, as if a large trunk were bringing up between two people.  ‘Blunderers!’ said she.  ’They have brought in something two hours before the time.  Don’t be surprised, sir, it is all to save you trouble.’