; and, tumbling over and over down it, without view of a
bottom, I awaked in a panic; and was as effectually disordered for half
an hour, as if my dream had been a reality.'

Wilt thou forgive my troubling thee with such visionary stuff? Thou wilt
see by it only that, sleeping or waking, my Clarissa is always present
with me.

But here this moment is Will. come running hither to tell me that his
lady actually returned to her lodgings last night between eleven and
twelve; and is now there, though very ill.

I hasten to her. But, that I may not add to her indisposition, by any
rough or boisterous behaviour, I will be as soft and gentle as the dove
herself in my addresses to her.

That I do love her, I all ye host of Heaven,
Be witness.--That she is dear to me!
Dearer than day, to one whom sight must leave;
Dearer than life, to one who fears to die!

The chair is come. I fly to my beloved.

LETTER XV

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

Curse upon my stars!--Disappointed again! It was about eight when I
arrived at Smith's.--The woman was in the shop.

So, old acquaintance, how do you now? I know my love is above.--Let her
be acquainted that I am here, waiting for admission to her presence, and
can take no denial. Tell her, that I will approach her with the most
respectful duty, and in whose company she pleases; and I will not touch
the hem of her garment, without her leave.

Indeed, Sir, you are mistaken. The lady is not in this house, nor near
it.

I'll see that.--Will.! beckoning him to me, and whispering, see if thou
canst any way find out (without losing sight of the door, lest she should
be below stairs) if she be in the neighbourhood, if not within.

Will. bowed, and went off. Up went I, without further ceremony; attended
now only by the good woman.

I went into each apartment, except that which was locked before, and was
now also locked: and I called to my Clarissa in the voice of love; but,
by the still silence, was convinced she was not there. Yet, on the
strength of my intelligence, I doubted not but she was in the house.

I then went up two pairs of stairs, and looked round the first room: but
no Miss Harlowe.

And who, pray, is in this room? stopping at the door of another.

A widow gentlewoman, Sir.--Mrs. Lovick.

O my dear Mrs. Lovick! said I.--I am intimately acquainted with Mrs.
Lovick's character, from my cousin John Belford. I must see Mrs. Lo