LETTER LX.
Miss Howe, To Miss Clarissa Harlowe.
Sunday Night, July 16.
My dearest Friend,
Why would you permit a mind so much devoted to your service, to labour under such an impatience as you must know it would labour under, for want of an Answer to a Letter of such consequence to you, and therefore to me, as was mine of Thursday night?---Rogers told me on Thursday, you were so ill; your Letter sent by him was so melancholy!---Yet you must be ill indeed, if you could not write something to such a Letter; were it but a line, to say you would write as soon as you could. Sure you have received it. The master of our nearest Post-office will pawn his reputation that it went safe: I gave him particular charge of it.
God send me good news of your health, of your ability to write; and then I will chide you---Indeed I will---as I never yet did chide you.
I suppose your excuse will be, that the subject required consideration---Lord! my dear, so it might: But you have so right a mind, and the matter in question
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is so obvious, that you could not want half an hour to determine---Then you intended, probably, to wait Collins's call for your Letter as on to-morrow!---Suppose---Miss!---(indeed I am angry with you! suppose) something were to happen, as it did on Friday, that he should not be able to go to town to-morrow?---How, child, could you serve me so!---I know not how to leave off scolding you!
Dear, honest Collins, make haste: He will: He will. He sets out, and travels all night: For I have told him, that the dearest friend I have in the world has it in her own choice to be happy, and to make me so; and that the Letter he will bring from her, will assure it to me.
I have ordered him to go directly (without stopping at the Saracen's-head Inn) to you at your lodgings. Matters are now in so good a way, that he safely may.
Your expected Letter is ready written, I hope: If it be not, he will call for it at your hour.
You can't be so happy as you deserve to be: But I doubt not that you will be as happy as you can; that is, that you will chuse to put yourself instantly into Lady Betty's protection. If you would not have the wretch for your own sake; have him you must, for mine, for your family's, for your honour's sake!---Dear, honest Collins, make haste! make haste! and relieve the impatient heart of my Beloved's
Ever-faithful, ever-affectionate,
Anna Howe.