re. You have received with favour my addresses,
yet, by declining my fervent tender of myself you have given me
apprehension of delay. Your brother's schemes are not given up. I have
taken care to give Mrs. Sinclair a reason why two apartments are
necessary for us in our retirement.'

"I raved at him. I would have flung from him, yet where could I go?

"Still, he insisted upon the propriety of appearing to be married. 'But
since you dislike what I have said, let me implore you,' he added, 'to
give a sanction to it by naming an early day--would to Heaven it were
to-morrow!'

"What could I say? I verily believe, had he urged me in a proper way, I
should have consented to meet him at a more sacred place than the
parlour below.

"The widow now directs all her talk to me as 'Mrs. Lovelace,' and I,
with a very ill-grace, bear it."

"_April 28._ Mr. Lovelace has returned already. 'My dearest life,' said
he. 'I cannot leave you for so long a time as you seem to expect I
should. Spare yourself the trouble of writing to any of your friends
till we are married. When they know we are married, your brother's plots
will be at an end, and they must all be reconciled to you. Why, then,
would you banish me from you? Why will you not give the man who has
brought you into difficulties, and who so honourably wishes to extricate
you from them, the happiness of doing so?'

"But, my dear although the opportunity was so inviting, he urged not for
the _day_. Which is the _more extraordinary_, as he was so pressing for
marriage before we came to town."

After some weeks, Clarissa succeeds in escaping from Mrs. Sinclair's
house and takes lodgings at Hampstead. But Lovelace finds out her
refuge, and sends two women, who pretend to be his relatives, Lady Betty
and Lady Sarah, and Clarissa is beguiled back to Mrs. Sinclair's for an
interview. Once inside the house, however, she is not allowed to leave
it. Her health is now seriously injured, and her letters home have been
answered by her father's curse.

Lovelace to his friend, John Belford:

"_June 18._ I went out early this morning, and returned just now, when I
was informed that my beloved, in my absence, had taken it into her head
to attempt to get away.

"She tripped down, with a parcel tied up in a handkerchief, her hood on,
and was actually in the entry, when Mrs. Sinclair saw her.

"'Pray, madam,' whipping between her and the street-door, 'be pleased to
let me know whither you