The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson, Volumes One and Two: Written by HerselfWilson, Harriette
General
The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson, Volumes One and Two: Written by Herself
Wilson, Harriette
Courtesans -- Great Britain -- Biography; Wilson, Harriette, 1786-1846
"And you will oblige me by neither writing to them nor receiving any
letters from them."
"Very well; then I will give them up altogether," said Sophia, with much
placidity; and yet we had never been, in the slightest degree, deficient
in sisterly affection towards her; and Lord Berwick expected to inspire
with affection this heartless thing, who, for a mere title, conferred
on her by a stranger she disliked, could at once forget the ties of
nature, and forsake for ever without an effort or a tear her earliest
friends and nearest relations; and not because she was more virtuous
than they were, since, on the contrary, she had begun her career before
other girls even dream of such things. She had intruded herself on a
cobbler at thirteen, thrown herself into the arms of the most disgusting
profligate in England at fourteen, with her eyes open, knowing what he
was; then offered herself for sale at a price to Colonel Berkeley, and,
when her terms were refused with scorn and contempt by the handsome and
young, she throws herself into the arms of age and ugliness for a yearly
stipend, and at length, by good luck, without one atom of virtue, became
a wife.
This from me may appear to strangers like personal pique, but all who
know me will acquit me of having ever, in my life, coveted the society
of fools. I certainly, being naturally affectionate, should never
have been induced to forsake my own sisters while they were kindly
disposed towards me: and in short, had a man to whom I was to be married
requested anything so unnatural of me, I should have disliked him ever
afterwards for the wish, so far from complying with it. Yet I do feel
irritated against Lady Berwick I confess it: but it is for her slights,
or what I fancy was her neglect of my dear departed mother. As for her
having forgotten me, our indifference being mutual, I am no longer at
all disposed to find fault with it. I should in like manner have ceased
to love my mother, had she but felt it in her power, or had it for an
instant been in her contemplation to forsake me for ever.
Nothing particular occurred on the day of Sophia's marriage, which
passed off very quietly, and Sophia ate a hearty dinner after it, which
was what usually happened to that interesting young lady every day of
her life at about six o'clock.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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