in the like
unhappy circumstances comfort

Your own
ANNA HOWE.

LETTER II

MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE
THURSDAY, JULY 13.

I am extremely concerned, my dear Miss Howe, for being primarily the
occasion of the apprehensions you have of this wicked man's vindictive
attempts. What a wide-spreading error is mine!----

If I find that he has set foot on any machination against you, or against
Mr. Hickman, I do assure you I will consent to prosecute him, although I
were sure I could not survive my first appearance at the bar he should be
arraigned at.

I own the justice of your mother's arguments on that subject; but must
say, that I think there are circumstances in my particular case, which
will excuse me, although on a slighter occasion than that you are
apprehensive of I should decline to appear against him. I have said,
that I may one day enter more particularly into this argument.

Your messenger has now indeed seen me. I talked with him on the cheat
put upon him at Hampstead: and am sorry to have reason to say, that had
not the poor young man been very simple, and very self-sufficient, he had
not been so grossly deluded. Mrs. Bevis has the same plea to make for
herself. A good-natured, thoughtless woman; not used to converse with so
vile and so specious a deceiver as him, who made his advantage of both
these shallow creatures.

I think I cannot be more private than where I am. I hope I am safe. All
the risque I run, is in going out, and returning from morning-prayers;
which I have two or three times ventured to do; once at Lincoln's-inn
chapel, at eleven; once at St. Dunstan's, Fleet-street, at seven in the
morning,* in a chair both times; and twice, at six in the morning, at the
neighbouring church in Covent-garden. The wicked wretches I have escaped
from, will not, I hope, come to church to look for me; especially at so
early prayers; and I have fixed upon the privatest pew in the latter
church to hide myself in; and perhaps I may lay out a little matter in an
ordinary gown, by way of disguise; my face half hid by my mob.--I am very
careless, my dear, of my appearance now. Neat and clean takes up the
whole of my attention.

* The seven-o'clock prayers at St. Dunstan's have been since
discontinued.

The man's name at whose house I belong, is Smith--a glove maker, as well
as seller. His wife is the shop-keeper. A dealer also in stockings,
ribbands, snuff, and perfumes. A matron-