Clarissa, Volume 5 | Page 6

way of establishing the third!] as the other does the people in a hurry to buy. And I have in my eye now a whole street raised, and running after a proclamation or express-crier, as if the first was a thief, the other his pursuers.
At last, O Lord! let Mrs. Lovelace know!--There is danger, to be sure! whispered from one nymph to another; but at the door, and so loud, that my listening fair-one might hear.
Out she darts--As how! as how, Dorcas!
O Madam--A vomiting of blood! A vessel broke, to be sure!
Down she hastens; finds every one as busy over my blood in the entry, as if it were that of the Neapolitan saint.
In steps my charmer, with a face of sweet concern.
How do you, Mr. Lovelace?
O my best love!--Very well!--Very well!--Nothing at all! nothing of consequence!--I shall be well in an instant!--Straining again! for I was indeed plaguy sick, though no more blood came.
In short, Belford, I have gained my end. I see the dear soul loves me. I see she forgives me all that's past. I see I have credit for a new score.
Miss Howe, I defy thee, my dear--Mrs. Townsend!--Who the devil are you?-- Troop away with your contrabands. No smuggling! nor smuggler, but myself! Nor will the choicest of my fair-one's favours be long prohibited goods to me!
***
Every one is now sure that she loves me. Tears were in her eyes more than once for me. She suffered me to take her hand, and kiss it as often as I pleased. On Mrs. Sinclair's mentioning, that I too much confined myself, she pressed me to take an airing; but obligingly desired me to be careful of myself. Wished I would advise with a physician. God made physicians, she said.
I did not think that, Jack. God indeed made us all. But I fancy she meant physic instead of physicians; and then the phrase might mean what the vulgar phrase means;--God sends meat, the Devil cooks.
I was well already, on taking the styptic from her dear hands.
On her requiring me to take the air, I asked, If I might have the honour of her company in a coach; and this, that I might observe if she had an intention of going out in my absence.
If she thought a chair were not a more proper vehicle for my case, she would with all her heart!
There's a precious!
I kissed her hand again! She was all goodness!--Would to Heaven I better deserved it, I said!--But all were golden days before us!--Her presence and generous concern had done every thing. I was well! Nothing ailed me. But since my beloved will have it so, I'll take a little airing!-- Let a chair be called!--O my charmer! were I to have owned this indisposition to my late harasses, and to the uneasiness I have had for disobliging you; all is infinitely compensated by your goodness.--All the art of healing is in your smiles!--Your late displeasure was the only malady!
While Mrs. Sinclair, and Dorcas, and Polly, and even poor silly Mabell [for Sally went out, as my angel came in] with uplifted hands and eyes, stood thanking Heaven that I was better, in audible whispers: See the power of love, cried one!--What a charming husband, another!--Happy couple, all!
O how the dear creature's cheek mantled!--How her eyes sparkled!--How sweetly acceptable is praise to conscious merit, while it but reproaches when applied to the undeserving!--What a new, what a gay creation it makes all at once in a diffident or dispirited heart!
And now, Belford, was it not worth while to be sick? And yet I must tell thee, that too many pleasanter expedients offer themselves, to make trial any more of this confounded ipecacuanha.

LETTER III
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE SATURDAY, MAY 27.
Mr. Lovelace, my dear, has been very ill. Suddenly taken. With a vomiting of blood in great quantities. Some vessel broken. He complained of a disorder in his stomach over night. I was the affected with it, as I am afraid it was occasioned by the violent contentions between us.--But was I in fault?
How lately did I think I hated him!--But hatred and anger, I see, are but temporary passions with me. One cannot, my dear, hate people in danger of death, or who are in distress or affliction. My heart, I find, is not proof against kindness, and acknowledgements of errors committed.
He took great care to have his illness concealed from me as long as he could. So tender in the violence of his disorder!--So desirous to make the best of it!--I wish he had not been ill in my sight. I was too much affected--every body alarming me with his danger. The poor man, from such high health, so suddenly taken!--and so unprepared!--
He is gone out in a chair. I advised him