Mrs. Norton, that I shall be every day more and
more happy within.

No doubt it would be one of the greatest comforts I could know to have
you with me: you, who love me so dearly: who have been the watchful
sustainer of my helpless infancy: you, by whose precepts I have been so
much benefited!--In your dear bosom could I repose all my griefs: and by
your piety and experience in the ways of Heaven, should I be strengthened
in what I am still to go through.

But, as it must not be, I will acquiesce; and so, I hope, will you: for
you see in what respects I am not unhappy; and in those that I am, they
lie not in your power to remedy.

Then as I have told you, I have all my clothes in my own possession. So
I am rich enough, as to this world, in common conveniencies.

You see, my venerable and dear friend, that I am not always turning the
dark side of my prospects, in order to move compassion; a trick imputed
to me, too often, by my hard-hearted sister; when, if I know my own
heart, it is above all trick or artifice. Yet I hope at last I shall be
so happy as to receive benefit rather than reproach from this talent, if
it be my talent. At last, I say; for whose heart have I hitherto moved?
--Not one, I am sure, that was not predetermined in my favour.

As to the day--I have passed it, as I ought to pass it. It has been a
very heavy day to me!--More for my friends sake, too, than for my own!--
How did they use to pass it!--What a festivity!--How have they now passed
it?--To imagine it, how grievous!--Say not that those are cruel, who
suffer so much for my fault; and who, for eighteen years together,
rejoiced in me, and rejoiced me by their indulgent goodness!--But I will
think the rest!--Adieu, my dearest Mrs. Norton!--

Adieu!

LETTER XLV

MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS ARABELLA HARLOWE
FRIDAY, JULY 21.

If, my dearest Sister, I did not think the state of my health very
precarious, and that it was my duty to take this step, I should hardly
have dared to approach you, although but with my pen, after having found
your censures so dreadfully justified as they have been.

I have not the courage to write to my father himself, nor yet to my
mother. And it is with trembling that I address myself to you, to beg of
you to intercede for me, that my father will have the goodness to revoke
that heaviest part of the very heavy curse he laid upon me, which relates
to HEREAFTER; for, as to the HERE, I have indeed met