the coquetry of the queen entirely conquered her prudery; and the favoured courtier, evidently elated by his situation, was as enthusiastic as her majesty’s most insatiable vanity could desire. The characters were well supported; both the actor and actress were highly animated, and seemed so fully possessed by their parts as to be insensible to the comments that were made upon the scene. Clarence Hervey was first recalled to himself by the deep blush which he saw on Belinda’s cheek, when Queen Elizabeth addressed her as one of her maids of honour, of whom she affected to be jealous. He was conscious that he had been hurried by the enthusiasm of the moment farther than he either wished or intended. It was difficult to recede, when her majesty seemed disposed to advance; but Sir Walter Raleigh, with much presence of mind, turned to the foreigner, whom he accosted as the Spanish ambassador.
“Your excellency sees,” said he, “how this great queen turns the heads of her faithful subjects, and afterwards has the art of paying them with nothing but words. Has the new world afforded you any coin half so valuable?”
The Spanish gentleman’s grave replies to this playful question gave a new turn to the conversation, and relieved Clarence Hervey from his embarrassment. Lady Delacour, though still in high spirits, was easily diverted to other objects. She took the Spaniard with her to the next room, to show him a picture of Mary, Queen of Scots. The company followed her — Clarence Hervey remained with Dr. X—— and Belinda, who had just asked the doctor, to teach her the moves at chess.
“Lady Delacour has charming spirits,” said Clarence Hervey; “they inspire every body with gaiety.”
“Every body! they incline me more to melancholy than mirth,” said Dr. X——. “These high spirits do not seem quite natural. The vivacity of youth and of health, Miss Portman, always charms me; but this gaiety of Lady Delacour’s does not appear to me that of a sound mind in a sound body.”
The doctor’s penetration went so near the truth, that Belinda, afraid of betraying her friend’s secrets, never raised her eyes from the chess-board whilst he spoke, but went on setting up the fallen castles, and bishops, and kings, with expeditious diligence.
“You are putting the bishop into the place of the knight,” said Clarence.
“Lady Delacour,” continued the doctor, “seems to be in a perpetual fever, either of mind or body — I cannot tell which — and as a professional man, I really have some curiosity to determine the question. If I could feel her pulse, I could instantly decide; but I have heard her say that she has a horror against having her pulse felt, and a lady’s horror is invincible, by reason —”
“But not by address,” said Clarence. “I can tell you a method of counting her pulse, without her knowing it, without her seeing you, without your seeing her.”
“Indeed!” said Dr. X— — smiling; “that may be a useful secret in my profession; pray impart it to me — you who excel in every thing.”
“Are you in earnest, Mr. Hervey?” said Belinda.
“Perfectly in earnest — my secret is quite simple. Look through the door at the shadow of Queen Elizabeth’s ruff — observe how it vibrates; the motion as well as the figure is magnified in the shadow. Cannot you count every pulsation distinctly?”
“I can,” said Dr. X— — “and I give you credit for making an ingenious use of a trifling observation.” The doctor paused and looked round. “Those people cannot hear what we are saying, I believe?”
“Oh, no,” said Belinda, “they are intent upon themselves.” Doctor X—— fixed his eyes mildly upon Clarence Hervey, and exclaimed in an earnest friendly tone —“What a pity, Mr. Hervey, that a young man of your talents and acquirements, a man who might be any thing, should — pardon the expression — choose to be — nothing; should waste upon petty objects powers suited to the greatest; should lend his soul to every contest for frivolous superiority, when the same energy concentrated might ensure honourable pre-eminence among the first men in his country. Shall he who might not only distinguish himself in any science or situation, who might not only acquire personal fame, but, oh, far more noble motive! who might be permanently useful to his fellow-creatures, content himself with being the evanescent amusement of a drawing-room? — Shall one, who might be great in public, or happy in private life, waste in this deplorable manner the best years of his existence — time that can never be recalled? — This is declamation! — No: it is truth put into the strongest language that I have power to use, in the hope of making some impression: I speak from my heart, for I have a sincere regard for you, Mr. Hervey, and if I have been impertinent, you must forgive me.”
“Forgive you!” cried Clarence Hervey, taking Dr. X—— by the hand, “I think you a real friend; you shall have the best thanks not in words, but in actions: you have roused my ambition, and I will pursue noble ends by noble means. A few years have been sacrificed; but the lessons that they have taught me remain. I cannot, presumptuous as lam, flatter myself that my exertions can be of any material utility to my fellow-creatures, but what I can do I will, my excellent friend! If I be hereafter either successful in public, or happy in private life, it is to you I shall owe it.”
Belinda was touched by the candour and good sense with which Clarence Hervey spoke. His character appeared in a new light: she was proud of her own judgment, in having discerned his merit, and for a moment she permitted herself to feel “unreproved pleasure in his company.”
The next morning, Sir Philip Baddely and Mr. Rochfort called at Lady Delacour’s — Mr. Hervey was present — her ladyship was summoned to Mrs. Franks, and Belinda was left with these gentlemen.
“Why, damme, Clary! you have been a lost man,” cried Sir Philip, “ever since you were drowned. Damme, why did not you come to dine with us that day, now I recollect it? We were all famously merry; but for your comfort, Clarence, we missed you cursedly, and were damned sorry you ever took that unlucky jump into the Serpentine river — damned sorry, were not we, Rochfort?”
“Oh,” said Clarence, in an ironical tone, “you need no vouchers to convince me of the reality of your sorrow. You know I can never forget your jumping so courageously into the river, to save the life of your friend.”
“Oh, pooh! damn it,” said Sir Philip, “what signifies who pulled you out, now you are safe and sound? By-the-bye, Clary, did you ever quiz that doctor, as I desired you? No, that I’m sure you didn’t; but I think he has made a quiz of you: for, damme, I believe you have taken such a fancy to the old quizzical fellow, that you can’t live without him. Miss Portman, don’t you admire Hervey’s taste?”
“In this instance I certainly do admire Mr. Hervey’s taste,” said Belinda, “for the best of all possible reasons, because it entirely agrees with my own.”
“Very extraordinary, faith,” said Sir Philip.
“And what the devil can you find to like in him, Clary?” continued Mr. Rochfort, “for one wouldn’t be so rude to put that question to a lady. Ladies, you know, are never to be questioned about their likings and dislikings. Some have pet dogs, some have pet cats: then why not a pet quiz?“
“Ha! ha! ha! that’s a good one, Rochfort — a pet quiz! — Ha! ha! ha! Dr. X—— shall be Miss Portman’s pet quiz. Put it about, put it about, Rochfort,” continued the witty baronet, and he and his facetious companion continued to laugh as long as they possibly could at this happy hit.
Belinda, without being in the least discomposed by their insolent folly, as soon as they had finished laughing, very coolly observed, that she could have no objection to give her reasons for preferring Dr. X——‘s company but for fear they might give offence to Sir Philip and his friends. She then defended the doctor with so much firmness, and yet with so much propriety, that Clarence Hervey was absolutely enchanted with her, and with his own penetration in having discovered her real character, notwithstanding her being Mrs. Stanhope’s niece.
“I never argue, for my part,” cried Mr. Rochfort: “‘pon honour, ’tis a deal too much trouble. A lady, a handsome lay, I mean, is always