"I only wish," continued Mrs. Freke, "I only wish his wife had been by.

Why the devil did not she make her appearance? I suppose the prude was afraid of my demolishing and unrigging her."

"There seems to have been more danger of that for you than for any body else," said Belinda, as she a.s.sisted to set Mrs. Freke's rigging, as she called it, to rights.

"I do of all things delight in hauling good people's opinions out of their musty drawers, and seeing how they look when they're all pulled to pieces before their faces! Pray, are those Lady Anne's drawers or yours?" said Mrs. Freke, pointing to a chest of drawers.

"Mine."

"I'm sorry for it; for if they were hers, to punish her for _shirking_ me, by the Lord, I'd have every rag she has in the world out in the middle of the floor in ten minutes! You don't know me--I'm a terrible person when provoked--stop at nothing!"

As Mrs. Freke saw no other chance left of gaining her point with Belinda, she tried what intimidating her would do.

"I stop at nothing," repeated she, fixing her eyes upon Miss Portman, to fascinate her by terror. "Friend or foe! peace or war! Take your choice.

Come to the ball at Harrowgate, I win my bet, and I'm your sworn friend.

Stay away, I lose my bet, and am your sworn enemy."

"It is not in my power, madam," said Belinda, calmly, "to comply with your request."

"Then you'll take the consequences," cried Mrs. Freke. She rushed past her, hurried down stairs, and called out, "Bid my blockhead bring my unicorn."

She, her unicorn, and her blockhead, were out of sight in a few minutes.

Good may be drawn from evil. Mrs. Freke's conversation, though at the time it confounded Belinda, roused her, upon reflection, to examine by her reason the habits and principles which guided her conduct. She had a general feeling that they were right and necessary; but now, with the a.s.sistance of Lady Anne and Mr. Percival, she established in her own understanding the exact boundaries between right and wrong upon many subjects. She felt a species of satisfaction and security, from seeing the demonstration of those axioms of morality, in which she had previously acquiesced. Reasoning gradually became as agreeable to her as wit; nor was her taste for wit diminished, it was only refined by this process. She now compared and judged of the value of the different species of this brilliant talent.

Mrs. Freke's wit, thought she, is like a noisy squib, the momentary terror of pa.s.sengers; Lady Delacour's like an elegant firework, which we crowd to see, and cannot forbear to applaud; but Lady Anne Percival's wit is like the refulgent moon, we

"Love the mild rays, and bless the useful light."

"Miss Portman," said Mr. Percival, "are not you afraid of making an enemy of Mrs. Freke, by declining her invitation to Harrowgate?"

"I think her friendship more to be dreaded than her enmity," replied Belinda.

"Then you are not to be terrified by an obeah-woman?" said Mr. Vincent.

"Not in the least, unless she were to come in the shape of a false friend," said Belinda.

"Till lately," said Mr. Vincent, "I was deceived in the character of Mrs. Freke. I thought her a dashing, free-spoken, free-hearted sort of eccentric person, who would make a staunch friend and a jolly companion.

As a mistress, or a wife, no man of any taste could think of her.

Compare that woman now with one of our Creole ladies."

"But why with a creole?" said Mr. Percival.

"For the sake of contrast, in the first place: our creole women are all softness, grace, delicacy----"

"And indolence," said Mr. Percival.

"Their indolence is but a slight, and, in my judgment, an amiable defect; it keeps them out of mischief, and it attaches them to domestic life. The activity of a Mrs. Freke would never excite their emulation; and so much the better."

"So much the better, no doubt," said Mr. Percival. "But is there no other species of activity that might excite their ambition with propriety? Without diminishing their grace, softness, or delicacy, might not they cultivate their minds? Do you think ignorance, as well as indolence, an amiable defect, essential to the female character?"

"Not essential. You do not, I hope, imagine that I am so much prejudiced in favour of my countrywomen, that I can neither see nor feel the superiority in _some instances_ of European cultivation? I speak only in general."

"And in general," said Lady Anne Percival, "does Mr. Vincent wish to confine our s.e.x to the bliss of ignorance?"

"If it be bliss," said Mr. Vincent, "what reason would they have for complaint?"

"_If_," said Belinda; "but that is a question which you have not yet decided."

"And how can we decide it?" said Mr. Vincent, "The taste and feelings of individuals must be the arbiters of their happiness."

"You leave reason quite out of the question, then," said Mr. Percival, "and refer the whole to taste and feeling? So that if the most ignorant person in the world a.s.sert that he is happier than you are, you are bound to believe him."

"Why should not I?" said Mr. Vincent.

"Because," said Mr. Percival, "though he can judge of his own pleasures, he cannot judge of yours; his are common to both, but yours are unknown to him. Would you, at this instant, change places with that ploughman yonder, who is whistling as he goes for want of thought? or, would you choose to go a step higher in the bliss of ignorance, and turn savage?"

Mr. Vincent laughed, and protested that he should be very unwilling to give up his t.i.tle to civilized society; and that, instead of wishing to have less knowledge, he regretted that he had not more. "I am sensible,"

said he, "that I have many prejudices;--Miss Portman has made me ashamed of some of them."

There was a degree of candour in Mr. Vincent's manner and conversation, which interested every body in his favour; Belinda amongst the rest. She was perfectly at ease in Mr. Vincent's company, because she considered him as a person who wished for her friendship, without having any design to engage her affections. From several hints that dropped from him, from Mr. Percival, and from Lady Anne, she was persuaded that he was attached to some creole lady; and all that he said in favour of the elegant softness and delicacy of his countrywomen confirmed this opinion.

Miss Portman was not one of those young ladies who fancy that every gentleman who converses freely with them will inevitably fall a victim to the power of their charms, and will see in every man a lover, or nothing.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A DECLARATION.

"I've found it!--I've found it, mamma!" cried little Charles Percival, running eagerly into the room with a plant in his hand. "Will you send this in your letter to Helena Delacour, and tell her that is the thing that gold fishes are so fond of? And tell her that it is called lemna, and that it may be found in any ditch or pool."

"But how can she find ditches and pools in Grosvenor-square, my dear?"

"Oh, I forgot that. Then will you tell her, mamma, that I will send her a great quant.i.ty?"

"How, my dear?"

"I don't know, mamma, yet--but I will find out some way."

"Would it not be as well, my dear," said his mother, smiling, "to consider how you can perform your promises before you make them?"

"A gentleman," said Mr. Vincent, "never makes a promise that he cannot perform."

"I know that very well," said the boy, proudly: "Miss Portman, who is very good-natured, will, I am sure, be so good, when she goes back to Lady Delacour, as to carry food for the gold fishes to Helena--you see that I have found out a way to keep my promise."

"No, I'm afraid not," said Belinda; "for I am not going back to Lady Delacour's."