LETTER XXXV MR. LOVELACE [IN CONTINUATION.]
The lady staid longer above than we wished; and I hoping that (lady-like) she only waited for an invitation to return to us, desired the widow Bevis, in the Captain's name, (who wanted to go to town,) to request the favour of her company.
I cared not to send up either Miss Rawlins or Mrs. Moore on the errand, lest my beloved should be in a communicative disposition; especially as she had hinted at an appeal to Miss Rawlins; who, besides, has such an unbounded curiosity.
Mrs. Bevis presently returned with an answer (winking and pinking at me) that the lady would follow her down.
Miss Rawlins could not but offer to retire, as the others did. Her eyes, however, intimated that she had rather stay. But they not being answered as she seemed to wish, she went with the rest, but with slower feet; and had hardly left the parlour, when the lady entered it by the other door; a melancholy dignity in her person and air.
She sat down. Pray, Mr. Tomlinson, be seated.
He took his chair over against her. I stood behind her's that I might give him agreed-upon signals, should there be occasion for them.
As thus--a wink of the left eye was to signify push that point, Captain.
A wink of the right, and a nod, was to indicate approbation of what he had said.
My fore-finger held up, and biting my lip, get off of that, as fast as possible.
A right-forward nod, and a frown, swear to it, Captain.
My whole spread hand, to take care not to say too much on that particular subject.
A scowling brow, and a positive nod, was to bid him rise in temper.
And these motions I could make, even those with my hand, without holding up my arm, or moving my wrist, had the women been there; as, when the motions were agreed upon, I knew not but they would.
She hemmed--I was going to speak, to spare her supposed confusion: but this lady never wants presence of mind, when presence of mind is necessary either to her honour, or to that conscious dignity which distinguishes her from all the women I ever knew.
I have been considering, said she, as well as I was able, of every thing that has passed; and of all that has been said; and of my unhappy situation. I mean no ill, I wish no ill, to any creature living, Mr. Tomlinson. I have always delighted to draw favourable rather than unfavourable conclusions; sometimes, as it has proved, for very bad hearts. Censoriousness, whatever faults I have, is not naturally my fault.--But, circumstanced as I am, treated as I have been, unworthily treated, by a man who is full of contrivances, and glories in them--
Lovel. My dearest life!--But I will not interrupt you.
Cl. Thus treated, it becomes me to doubt--it concerns my honour to doubt, to fear, to apprehend--your intervention, Sir, is so seasonable, so kind, for this man--my uncle's expedient, the first of the kind he ever, I believe, thought of! a plain, honest, good-minded man, as he is, not affecting such expedients--your report in conformity to it--the consequences of that report; the alarm taken by my brother; his rash resolution upon it--the alarm taken by Lady Betty, and the rest of Mr. Lovelace's relations--the sudden letters written to him upon it, which, with your's, he showed me--all ceremony, among persons born observers of ceremony, and entitled to value themselves upon their distinction, dispensed with--all these things have happened so quick, and some of them so seasonable--