my ears. One, in
particular, of so shocking a nature!--Indeed, my dear, the man's a devil.

The whole story of Mrs. Fretchville, and her house, I have no doubt to
pronounce, likewise, an absolute fiction.--Fellow!--How my soul spurns
the villain!

Your thought of going abroad, and your reasons for so doing, most
sensibly affect me. But be comforted, my dear; I hope you will not be
under a necessity of quitting your native country. Were I sure that that
must be the cruel case, I would abandon all my better prospects, and soon
be with you. And I would accompany you whithersoever you went, and share
fortunes with you: for it is impossible that I should be happy, if I knew
that you were exposed not only to the perils of the sea, but to the
attempts of other vile men; your personal graces attracting every eye;
and exposing you to those hourly dangers, which others, less
distinguished by the gifts of nature, might avoid.--All that I know that
beauty (so greatly coveted, and so greatly admired) is good for.

O my dear, were I ever to marry, and to be the mother of a CLARISSA,
[Clarissa must be the name, if promisingly lovely,] how often would my
heart ache for the dear creature, as she grew up, when I reflected that a
prudence and discretion, unexampled in woman, had not, in you, been a
sufficient protection to that beauty, which had drawn after it as many
admirers as beholders!--How little should I regret the attacks of that
cruel distemper, as it is called, which frequently makes the greatest
ravages in the finest faces!

SAT. AFTERNOON.

I have just parted with Mrs. Townsend.* I thought you had once seen her
with me; but she says she never had the honour to be personally known to
you. She has a manlike spirit. She knows the world. And her two
brothers being in town, she is sure she can engage them in so good a
cause, and (if there should be occasion) both their ships' crews, in your
service.

* For the account of Mrs. Townsend, &c. see Vol. IV. Letter XLII.

Give your consent, my dear; and the horrid villain shall be repaid with
broken bones, at least, for all his vileness!

The misfortune is, Mrs. Townsend cannot be with you till Thursday next,
or Wednesday, at soonest: Are you sure you can be safe where you are till
then? I think you are too near London; and perhaps you had better be in
it. If you remove, let me, the very moment, know whither.

How my heart is torn, to think of the necessity so d