ty is owing) to them.

Fie upon me! for meeting the seducer!--Let all end as happily as it now
may, I have laid up for myself remorse for my whole life.

What still more concerns me is, that every time I see this man, I am
still at a greater loss than before what to make of him. I watch every
turn of his countenance: and I think I see very deep lines in it. He
looks with more meaning, I verily think, than he used to look; yet not
more serious; not less gay--I don't know how he looks--but with more
confidence a great deal than formerly; and yet he never wanted that.

But here is the thing; I behold him with fear now, as conscious of the
power my indiscretion has given him over me. And well may he look more
elate, when he sees me deprived of all the self-supposed significance,
which adorns and exults a person who has been accustomed to respect; and
who now, by a conscious inferiority, allows herself to be overcome,
and in a state of obligation, as I may say, to a man who from a humble
suitor to her for her favour, assumes the consequence and airs of a
protector.

I shall send this, as my former, by a poor man, who travels every day
with pedlary matters. He will leave it at Mrs. Knolly's, as you direct.

If you hear any thing of my father and mother, and of their health, and
how my friends were affected by my unhappy step, pray be so good as to
write me a few lines by the messenger, if his waiting for them can be
known to you.

I am afraid to ask you, Whether, upon reading that part of my narrative
already in your hands, you think any sort of extenuation lies for

Your unhappy CLARISSA HARLOWE?

LETTER VII

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. TUESDAY, WEDN. APRIL 11, 12.

You claim my promise, that I will be as particular as possible, in
all that passes between me and my goddess. Indeed, I never had a more
illustrious subject to exercise my pen. And, moreover, I have leisure;
for by her good will, my access would be as difficult to her, as that of
the humblest slave to an Eastern monarch. Nothing, then, but inclination
to write can be wanting; and since our friendship, and your obliging
attendance upon me at the White Hart, will not excuse that, I will
endeavour to keep my word.

I parted with thee and thy brethren, with a full resolution, thou
knowest, to rejoin ye, if she once again disappointed me, in order to go
together (attended by our servants, for shew sake) to the gloomy father;
and demand aud