said Belinda to herself, “why should I follow the same course, and expect to be more fortunate?”
It is singular, that the very means which Mrs. Stanhope had taken to make a fine lady of her niece tended to produce an effect diametrically opposite to what might have been expected. The result of Belinda’s reflections upon Lady Delacour’s history was a resolution to benefit by her bad example; but this resolution it was more easy to form than to keep. Her ladyship, where she wished to please or to govern, had fascinating manners, and could alternately use the sarcastic powers of wit, and the fond tone of persuasion, to accomplish her purposes. It was Belinda’s intention, in pursuance of her new plans of life, to spend, whilst she remained in London, as little money as possible upon superfluities and dress. She had, at her own disposal, only 100l. per annum, the interest of her fortune; but besides this, her aunt, who was desirous that she should go to court, and make a splendid figure there, had sent her a draught on her banker for two hundred guineas. “You will, I trust,” said her aunt, at the conclusion of the letter, “repay me when you are established in the world; as I hope and believe, from what I hear from Lady Delacour of the power of your charms, you will soon be, to the entire satisfaction of all your friends. Pray do not neglect to mention my friend Clarence Hervey particularly when you write next. I understand from one who is well acquainted with him, and who has actually seen his rent-roll, that he has a clear 10,000l. a year.”
Belinda resolved neither to go to court, nor to touch her aunt’s two hundred guineas; and she wrote a long letter to her, in which she explained her feelings and views at large. In this letter she meant to have returned Mrs. Stanhope’s draught, but her feelings and views changed between the writing of this epistle and the going out of the post. Mrs. Franks, the milliner, came in the interim, and brought home Lady Delacour’s beautiful dress: it was not the sight of this, however, which changed Belinda’s mind; but she could not resist Lady Delacour’s raillery.
“Why, my dear,” said her ladyship, after having listened to all Miss Portman could say about her love of independence, and the necessity of economy to preserve that independence, “all this is prodigiously fine—but shall I translate it into plain English? You were mortally wounded the other night by some random reflections of a set of foolish young men—Clarence Hervey amongst the number; and instead of punishing them, you sagely and generously determined to punish yourself. Then, to convince this youth that you have not a thought of those odious nets and cages, that you have no design whatever upon his heart, and that he has no manner of influence on yours, you very judiciously determine, at the first hint from him, to change your dress, your manners, and your character, and thus to say to him, in as plain terms as possible—‘You see, sir, a word to the wise is enough; I understand you disapprove of showy dress and coquetry, and therefore, as I dressed and coquetted only to please you, now I shall lay aside dress and coquetry, since I find that they are not to your taste—and I hope, sir, you like my simplicity!’ Depend upon it, my dear, Clarence Hervey understands simplicity as well as you or I do. All this would be vastly well, if he did not know that you overheard that conversation; but as he does know it, trust me, he will attribute any sudden change in your manners and appearance, right or wrong, to the motives I have mentioned. So don’t, novice as you are! set about to manoeuvre for yourself. Leave all that to your aunt Stanhope, or to me, and then you know your conscience will be all the time as white as your hands,—which, by-the-bye, Clarence Hervey, the other day, said were the whitest hands he had ever seen. Perhaps all this time you have taken it into your head that full dress will not become you; but I assure you that it will—you look well in any thing—
‘But from the hoop’s bewitching round,
The very shoe has power to wound.’
So come down to Mrs. Franks, and order your birthnight dress like a reasonable creature.”
Like a reasonable creature, Miss Portman followed Lady Delacour, and bespoke, or rather let her ladyship bespeak for her, fifty guineas’ worth of elegance and fashion. “You must go to the drawing-room with me next week, and be presented,” said Lady Delacour, “and then, as it is the first time, you must be elegantly dressed, and you must not wear the same dress on the birthnight. So, Mrs. Franks, let this be finished first, as fast as you can, and by that time, perhaps, we shall think of something superlatively charming for the night of nights.”
Mrs. Franks departed, and Belinda sighed. “A silver penny for your thoughts!” cried Lady Delacour. “You are thinking that you are like Camilla, and I like Mrs. Mitten. Novel reading.—as I dare say you have been told by your governess, as I was told by mine, and she by hers, I suppose—novel reading for young ladies is the most dangerous——
“Oh, Clarence Hervey, I protest!” cried Lady Delacour, as he at this instant entered the room. “Do, pray, Clarence, help me out, for the sake of this young lady, with a moral sentence against novel reading: but that might go against your conscience, or your interest; so we’ll spare you. How I regret that we had not the charming serpent at the masquerade the other night!”
The moment her ladyship mentioned the masquerade, the conversation which had passed at Lady Singleton’s came full into Clarence Hervey’s recollection, and his embarrassment was evident—not indeed to Belinda, who had turned away to look over some new music that lay upon a stand at the farthest end of the room; and she found this such a wonderfully interesting occupation, that she did not for some minutes hear, or appear to hear, one word of the conversation which was going on between Mr. Hervey and Lady Delacour. At last, her ladyship tapped her upon the shoulder, saying, in a playful tone, “Miss Portman, I arrest your attention at the suit of Clarence Hervey: this gentleman is passionately fond of music—to my curse—for he never sees my harp but he worries me with reproaches for having left off playing upon it. Now he has just given me his word that he will not reproach me again for a month to come if you will favour us with one air. I assure you, Clarence, that Belinda touches a harp divinely—she would absolutely charm——” “Your ladyship should not waste such valuable praise,” interrupted Belinda. “Do you forget that Belinda Portman and her accomplishments have already been as well advertised as Packwood’s razor-strops?”
The manner in which these words were pronounced made a great impression upon Clarence Hervey, and he began to believe it was possible that a niece of the match-making Mrs. Stanhope might not be “a compound of art and affectation.” “Though her aunt has advertised her,” said he to himself, “she seems to have too much dignity to advertise herself, and it would be very unjust to blame her for the faults of another person. I will see more of her.”
Some morning visitors were announced, who for the time suspended Clarence Hervey’s reflections: the effect of them, however, immediately appeared; for as his good opinion of Belinda increased, his ambition to please her was strongly excited. He displayed all his powers of wit and humour; and not only Lady Delacour but every body present observed, “that Mr. Hervey, who was always the most entertaining man in the world, this morning surpassed himself, and was absolutely the most entertaining man in the universe.” He was mortified, notwithstanding; for he distinctly perceived, that whilst Belinda joined with ease and dignity in the general conversation, her manner towards him was grave and reserved. The next morning he called earlier than usual; but though Lady Delacour was always at home to him, she was then unluckily dressing to go to court: he inquired whether Miss Portman would accompany her ladyship, and he learnt from his friend Marriott that she was not to be presented this day, because Mrs. Franks had not brought home her dress. Mr. Hervey called again two hours afterwards.—Lady Delacour was gone to court. He asked for Miss Portman. “Not at home,” was the mortifying answer; though, as he had passed by the windows, he had heard the delightful sound of her harp. He walked up and down in the square impatiently, till he saw Lady Delacour’s carriage appear.
“The drawing-room has lasted an unconscionable time this morning,” said he, as he handed her ladyship out of her coach, “Am not I the most virtuous of virtuous women,” said Lady Delacour, “to go to court such a day as this? But,” whispered she, as she went up stairs, “like all other amazingly good people, I have amazingly good reasons for being good. The queen is soon to give a charming breakfast at Frogmore, and I am paying my court with all my might, in hopes of being asked; for Belinda must see one of their galas before we leave