Letter from Harriet Osberton

Wortham, September 4^th, 1763

My dearest Emy,

we fled from my parents house and the whole neighbourhood. It was not to be born anymore. My mother intruded upon us every day without any notice. The atmosphere at home is horrible and we decided to leave. It is very vexing, especially in my current condition. I know not for how long I could have hidden it from my mother or the whole family. My morning sickness is terrible and Clive did his best to keep anyone from me to keep the secret. Now we are on our way home to Clarington. Hester is to join us in town for the season, but I don't know if we go at all regarding my health... But they do not know of course. I will not tell them until the very least. - My brother is gone too. We don't know where. He disappeared over night and nobody noticed. His manservant was gone sometime before him, the butler informed us later... I'm very tired of it all my dearest and glad to go home. I will write again from Clarington.

Affectionately,

yours

Harriet.

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Letter to Harriet

Leyland Manor, June 15th 1763

My darling Harriet, how delighted I was receiving your letter. It diverted me exceedingly. You must have great fun. Your sparkling eyes and your dimples when you smile your sweet smile must charm every gentleman in your party at Clarington and in Bath. I heard that all fashionable women are wearing pink. Yes, indeed my dear Harriet, the news were also spreading towards us. What is this about black trimmings in Bath?

Summer in the country is very tedious. I can´t recall any summer so hot and I miss the coast. I miss you very much, too. You have to write to me very often in the future, telling me all details of your guests and what you do all day for entertainment. I spend my days very dull. After breakfast I walk a bit in the garden, then writing my letters and later play the harp or read. The time between luncheon and dinner I usually keep to my room, which is cooler than those facing the garden.
But you will see for yourself, when you finally come and be MY guest. I'm craving for your presence and think about the hours we used to spend back home at Wortham.
I will send this letter right to Clarington, for I don't expect the post to reach you while you're still so far away in Bath. Enjoy your time and take care of yourself on the roads north.

Yours,
ever affectionate

E.C.'

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March 13th, 1763

Started reading Pamela.
Harriet told me in her letter, that accompanied the package, that it is a bestseller book and she was quite surprised, that I didn´t have it. Nor my father.
I don´t like the story. Not yet. It is very outrageous having this maid pursued by her master.

The service today was tiresome. The vicar was endlessly reporting on female virtues. After church my mother had her share and read me a sermon on exactly the same topic. I was relieved when her friend came to pay a call and I could hide myself at the harpsichord.

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