"She is really a charming woman," said Clarence Hervey, in a low voice, to Lady Delacour, drawing her into a recessed window: he in the same low voice continued, "Could I obtain a private audience of a few minutes when your ladyship is at leisure?--I have--" "I am never at leisure,"

interrupted Lady Delacour; "but if you have any thing particular to say to me-as I guess you have, by my skill in human nature--come here to my concert to-night, before the rest of the world. Wait patiently in the music-room, and perhaps I may grant you a private audience, as you had the grace not to call it a _tete-a-tete_. In the mean time, my dear Countess de Pomenars, had we not better take off our hoops?" In the evening, Clarence Hervey was in the music-room a considerable time before Lady Delacour appeared: how patiently he waited is not known to any one but himself.

"Have not I given you time to compose a charming speech?" said Lady Delacour as she entered the room; "but make it as short as you can, unless you wish that Miss Portman should hear it, for she will be down stairs in three minutes."

"In one word, then, my dear Lady Delacour, can you, and will you, make my peace with Miss Portman?--I am much concerned about that foolish razor-strop dialogue which she overheard at Lady Singleton's."

"You are concerned that she overheard it, no doubt."

"No," said Clarence Hervey, "I am rejoiced that she overheard it, since it has been the means of convincing me of my mistake; but I am concerned that I had the presumption and injustice to judge of Miss Portman so hastily. I am convinced that, though she is a niece of Mrs. Stanhope's, she has dignity of mind and simplicity of character. Will you, my dear Lady Delacour, tell her so?"

"Stay," interrupted Lady Delacour; "let me get it by heart. I should have made a terrible bad messenger of the G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses, for I never in my life could, like Iris, repeat a message in the same words in which it was delivered to me. Let me see--'Dignity of mind and simplicity of character,' was not it? May not I say at once, 'My dear Belinda, Clarence Hervey desires me to tell you that he is convinced you are an angel?' That single word _angel_ is so expressive, so comprehensive, so comprehensible, it contains, believe me, all that can be said or imagined on these occasions, _de part et d'autre_."

"But," said Mr. Hervey, "perhaps Miss Portman has heard the song of--

'What know we of angels?-- I spake it in jest.'"

"Then you are not in jest, but in downright sober earnest?--Ha!" said Lady Delacour, with an arch look, "I did not know it was already come to _this_ with you."

And her ladyship, turning to her piano-forte, played--

"There was a young man in Ballinacrasy, Who wanted a wife to make him un_asy_, And thus in gentle strains he spoke her, Arrah, will you marry me, my dear Ally Croker?"

"No, no," exclaimed Clarence, laughing, "it is not come to _that_ with me yet, Lady Delacour, I promise you; but is not it possible to say that a young lady has dignity of mind and simplicity of character without having or suggesting any thoughts of marriage?"

"You make a most proper, but not sufficiently emphatic difference between having or suggesting such thoughts," said Lady Delacour. "A gentleman sometimes finds it for his interest, his honour, or his pleasure, to suggest what he would not for the world promise,--I mean perform."

"A scoundrel," cried Clarence Hervey, "not a gentleman, may find it for his honour, or his interest, or his pleasure, to promise what he would not perform; but I am not a scoundrel. I never made any promise to man or woman that I did not keep faithfully. I am not a swindler in love."

"And yet," said Lady Delacour, "you would have no scruple to trifle or flatter a woman out of her heart."

_"Cela est selon!"_ said Clarence smiling; "a fair exchange, you know, is no robbery. When a fine woman robs me of my heart, surely Lady Delacour could not expect that I should make no attempt upon hers."--"Is this part of my message to Miss Portman?" said Lady Delacour. "As your ladyship pleases," said Clarence; "I trust entirely to your discretion."

"Why I really have a great deal of discretion," said Lady Delacour; "but you trust too much to it when you expect that I should execute, both with propriety and success, the delicate commission of telling a young lady, who is under my protection, that a young gentleman, who is a professed admirer of mine, is in love with her, but has no thoughts, and wishes to suggest no thoughts, of marriage."

"In love!" exclaimed Clarence Hervey; "but when did I ever use the expression? In speaking of Miss Portman, I simply expressed esteem and ad--------"

"No additions," said Lady Delacour; "content yourself with esteem--simply,--and Miss Portman is safe, and you too, I presume.

Apropos; pray, Clarence, how do your esteem and _admiration_ (I may go as far as that, may not I?) of Miss Portman agree with your admiration of Lady Delacour?"

"Perfectly well," replied Clarence; "for all the world must be sensible that Clarence Hervey is a man of too much taste to compare a country novice in wit and accomplishments to Lady Delacour. He might, as men of genius sometimes do, look forward to the idea of forming a country novice for a wife. A man must marry some time or other--but my hour, thank Heaven, is not come yet."

"Thank Heaven!" said Lady Delacour; "for you know a married man is lost to the world of fashion and gallantry."

"Not more so, I should hope, than a married woman," said Clarence Harvey. Here a loud knocking at the door announced the arrival of company to the concert. "You will make my peace, you promise me, with Miss Portman," cried Clarence eagerly.

"Yes, I will make your peace, and you shall see Belinda smile upon you once more, upon condition," continued Lady Delacour, speaking very quickly, as if she was hurried by the sound of people coming up stairs--"but we'll talk of that another time."

"Nay, nay, my dear Lady Delacour, now, now," said Clarence, seizing her hand.--"Upon condition! upon what condition?"

"Upon condition that you do a little job for me--indeed for Belinda. She is to go with me to the birth-night, and she has often hinted to me that our horses are shockingly shabby for people of our condition. I know she wishes that upon such an occasion--her first appearance at court, you know--we should go in style. Now my dear positive lord has _said_ he will not let us have a pair of the handsomest horses I ever saw, which are at Tattersal's, and on which Belinda, I know, has secretly set her heart, as I have openly, in vain."

"Your ladyship and Miss Portman cannot possibly set your hearts on any thing in vain--especially on any thing that it is in the power of Clarence Hervey to procure. Then," added he, gallantly kissing her hand, "may I thus seal my treaty of peace?"

"What audacity!--don't you see these people coming in?" cried Lady Delacour; and she withdrew her hand, but with no great precipitation.

She was evidently, "at this moment, as in all the past," neither afraid nor ashamed that Mr. Hervey's devotions to her should be paid in public.

With much address she had satisfied herself as to his views with respect to Belinda. She was convinced that he had no immediate thoughts of matrimony; but that if he were condemned to marry, Miss Portman would be his wife. As this did not interfere with her plans, Lady Delacour was content.

CHAPTER VI.

WAYS AND MEANS.

When Lady Delacour repeated to Miss Portman the message about "simplicity of mind and dignity of character," she frankly said--

"Belinda, notwithstanding all this, observe, I'm determined to retain Clarence Hervey among the number of my public worshippers during my life--which you know cannot last long. After I am gone, my dear, he'll be all your own, and of that I give you joy. Posthumous fame is a silly thing, but posthumous jealousy detestable."

There was one part of the conversation between Mr. Hervey and her ladyship which she, in her great discretion, did not immediately repeat to Miss Portman--that part which related to the horses. In this transaction Belinda had no farther share than having once, when her ladyship had the handsome horses brought for her to look at, a.s.sented to the opinion that they were the handsomest horses she ever beheld. Mr.

Hervey, however gallantly he replied to her ladyship, was secretly vexed to find that Belinda had so little delicacy as to permit her name to be employed in such a manner. He repented having used the improper expression of _dignity of mind_, and he relapsed into his former opinion of Mrs. Stanhope's niece. A relapse is always more dangerous than the first disease. He sent home the horses to Lady Delacour the next day, and addressed Belinda, when he met her, with the air of a man of gallantry, who thought that his peace had been cheaply made. But in proportion as his manners became more familiar, hers grew more reserved.

Lady Delacour rallied her upon _her prudery_, but in vain. Clarence Hervey seemed to think that her ladyship had not fulfilled her part of the bargain.--"Is not _smiling_," said he, "the epithet always applied to peace? yet I have not been able to obtain one smile from Miss Portman since I have been promised peace." Embarra.s.sed by Mr. Hervey's reproaches, and provoked to find that Belinda was proof against all her raillery, Lady Delacour grew quite ill-humoured towards her. Belinda, unconscious of having given any just cause of offence, was unmoved; and her ladyship's embarra.s.sment increased. At last, resuming all her former appearance of friendship and confidence, she suddenly exclaimed one night after she had flattered Belinda into high spirits--

"Do you know, my dear, that I have been so ashamed of ashamed of myself for this week past, that I have hardly dared to look you in the face.

I am sensible I was downright rude and cross to you one day, and ever since I have been penitent; and, as all penitents are, very stupid and disagreeable, I am sure: but tell me you forgive my caprice, and Lady Delacour will be herself again."

It was not difficult to obtain Belinda's forgiveness.

"Indeed," continued Lady Delacour, "you are too good; but then in my own justification I must say, that I have more things to make me ill-humoured than most people have. Now, my dear, that most obstinate of human beings, Lord Delacour, has reduced me to the most terrible situation--I have made Clarence Hervey buy a pair of horses for me, and I cannot make my Lord Delacour pay for them; but I forgot to tell you that I took your name--not in vain indeed--in this business. I told Clarence, that upon condition he would do this _job_ for me, you would forgive him for all his sins, and--nay, my dear, why do you look as if I had stabbed you to the heart?--after all, I only drew upon your pretty mouth for a few smiles. Pray let me see whether it has actually forgotten _how_ to smile."

Belinda was too much vexed at this instant to understand raillery. She was inspired by anger with unwonted courage, and, losing all fear of Lady Delacour's wit, she very seriously expostulated with her ladyship upon having thus used her name without her consent or knowledge. Belinda felt she was now in danger of being led into a situation which might be fatal to her reputation and her happiness; and she was the more surprised at her ladyship, when she recollected the history she had so lately heard of Harriot Freke and Colonel Lawless.

"You cannot but be sensible, Lady Delacour," said Belinda, "that after the contempt I have heard Mr. Hervey express for match-making with Mrs.

Stanhope's nieces, I should degrade myself by any attempts to attract his attention. No wit, no eloquence, can change my opinion upon this subject--I cannot endure contempt."

"Very likely--no doubt"--interrupted Lady Delacour; "but if you would only open your eyes, which heroines make it a principle never to do--or else there would be an end of the novel--if you would only open your eyes, you would see that this man is in love with you; and whilst you are afraid of his contempt, he is a hundred times more afraid of yours; and as long as you are each of you in such fear of you know not what, you must excuse me if I indulge myself in a little wholesome raillery."--Belinda smiled.--"There now; one such smile as that for Clarence Hervey, and I'm out of debt and danger," said Lady Delacour.

"O Lady Delacour, why, why will you try your power over me in this manner?" said Belinda. "You know that I ought not to be persuaded to do what I am conscious is wrong. But a few days ago you told me yourself that Mr. Hervey is--is not a marrying man; and a woman of your penetration must see that--that he only means to flirt with me. I am not a match for Mr. Hervey in any respect. He is a man of wit and gallantry--I am unpractised in the ways of the world. I was not educated by my aunt Stanhope--I have only been with her a few years--I wish I had never been with her in my life."

"I'll take care Mr. Hervey shall know that," said Lady Delacour; "but in the mean time I do think any fair appraiser of delicate distresses would decide that I am, all the circ.u.mstances considered, more to be pitied at this present moment than you are: for the catastrophe of the business evidently is, that I must pay two hundred guineas for the horses somehow or other."

"I can pay for them," exclaimed Belinda, "and will with the greatest pleasure. I will not go to the birthnight--my dress is not bespoke.

Will two hundred guineas pay for the horses? Oh, take the money--pay Mr.

Hervey, dear Lady Delacour, and it will all be right."

"You are a charming girl," said Lady Delacour, embracing her; "but how can I answer for it to my conscience, or to your aunt Stanhope, if you don't appear on the birthnight? That cannot be, my dear; besides, you know Mrs. Franks will send home your drawing-room dress to-day, and it would be so foolish to be presented for nothing--not to go to the birthnight afterwards. If you say _a_ you must say _b."_

"Then," said Belinda, "I will not go to the drawing-room."--"Not go, my dear! What! throw away fifty guineas for nothing! Really I never saw any one so lavish of her money, and so economic of her smiles."