in my father's house, stealing down with
a letter to you; my heart beating with expectation of finding one from
you!

*****

This is the Wednesday morning I dreaded so much, that I once thought
of it as the day of my doom: but of the Monday, it is plain, I ought to
have been most apprehensive. Had I staid, and had the worst I
dreaded happened, my friends would then have been answerable for the
consequences, if any bad ones had followed:--but now, I have only this
consolation left me (a very poor one, you'll say!) that I have cleared
them of blame, and taken it all upon myself!

You will not wonder to see this narrative so dismally scrawled. It is
owing to different pens and ink, all bad, and written in snatches of
time; my hand trembling too with fatigue and grief.

I will not add to the length of it, by the particulars of his behaviour
to me, and of our conversation at St. Alban's, and since; because those
will come in course in the continuation of my story; which, no doubt,
you will expect from me.

Only thus much will I say, that he is extremely respectful (even
obsequiously so) at present, though I am so much dissatisfied with
him and myself that he has hitherto had no great cause to praise my
complaisance to him. Indeed, I can hardly, at times, bear the seducer in
my sight.

The lodgings I am in are inconvenient. I shall not stay in them: so it
signifies nothing to tell you how to direct to me hither. And where my
next may be, as yet I know not.

He knows that I am writing to you; and has offered to send my letter,
when finished, by a servant of his. But I thought I could not be too
cautious, as I am now situated, in having a letter of this importance
conveyed to you. Who knows what such a man may do? So very wicked
a contriver! The contrivance, if a contrivance, to get me away, so
insolently mean!--But I hope it is not a contrivance neither!--Yet, be
that as it will, I must say, that the best of him, and of my prospects
with him, are bad; and yet, having enrolled myself among the too-late
repenters, who shall pity me?

Nevertheless, I will dare to hope for a continued interest in your
affections [I shall be miserable indeed if I may not!] and to be
remembered in your daily prayers. For neither time nor accident shall
ever make me cease to be

Your faithful and affectionate CLARISSA HARLOWE.

LETTER III

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOSEPH LEMAN SAT. APRIL 8.

HONEST JOSEPH,

At length your belo