The insolent creature went away, ordering them, in the lady’s hearing, to be very civil to her, and to let her want for nothing.  Now had she, she owned, the triumph of her heart over this haughty beauty, who kept them all at such a distance in their own house!

What thinkest thou, Lovelace, of this!—­This wretch’s triumph was over a Clarissa!

About six in the evening, Rowland’s wife pressed her to drink tea.  She said, she had rather have a glass of water; for her tongue was ready to cleave to the roof of her mouth.

The woman brought her a glass, and some bread and butter.  She tried to taste the latter; but could not swallow it:  but eagerly drank the water; lifting up her eyes in thankfulness for that!!!

The divine Clarissa, Lovelace,—­reduced to rejoice for a cup of cold water!—­By whom reduced?

About nine o’clock she asked if any body were to be her bedfellow.

Their maid, if she pleased; or, as she was so weak and ill, the girl should sit up with her, if she chose she should.

She chose to be alone both night and day, she said.  But might she not be trusted with the key of the room where she was to lie down; for she should not put off her clothes!

That, they told her, could not be.

She was afraid not, she said.—­But indeed she would not get away, if she could.

They told me, that they had but one bed, besides that they lay in themselves, (which they would fain have had her accept of,) and besides that their maid lay in, in a garret, which they called a hole of a garret:  and that that one bed was the prisoner’s bed; which they made several apologies to me about.  I suppose it is shocking enough.

But the lady would not lie in theirs.  Was she not a prisoner? she said —­let her have the prisoner’s room.

Yet they owned that she started, when she was conducted thither.  But recovering herself, Very well, said she—­why should not all be of a piece?—­Why should not my wretchedness be complete?

She found fault, that all the fastenings were on the outside, and none within; and said, she could not trust herself in a room where others could come in at their pleasure, and she not go out.  She had not been used to it!!!

Dear, dear soul!—­My tears flow as I write!——­Indeed, Lovelace, she had not been used to such treatment.

They assured her, that it was as much their duty to protect her from other persons’ insults, as from escaping herself.

Then they were people of more honour, she said, than she had been of late used to.

She asked if they knew Mr. Lovelace?

No, was their answer.

Have you heard of him?

No.

Well, then, you may be good sort of folks in your way.

Pause here for a moment, Lovelace!—­and reflect—­I must.

***

Again they asked her if they should send any word to her lodgings?