The countess was as good as her word, and two days after sent a card to Arabella, importing her design to wait on her that afternoon.
Our heroine expected her with great impatience, and the moment she entered the room, flew towards her with a graceful eagerness, and straining her in her arms, embraced her with all the fervour of a long absent friend.
Sir Charles and Mr. Glanville were equally embarrassed at the familiarity of this address; but observing that the countess seemed not to be surprised at it, but rather to receive it with pleasure, they were soon composed.
You cannot imagine, lovely stranger, said Arabella to the countess, as soon as they were seated, with what impatience I have longed to behold you, since the knowledge I have received of your rare qualities, and the friendship you have been pleased to honour me with—And I may truly protest to you, that such is my admiration of your virtues, that I would have gone to the farthest part of the world to render you that which you with so much generosity have condescended to bestow upon me.
Sir Charles stared at this extraordinary speech, and not being able to comprehend a word of it, was concerned to think how the lady to whom it was addressed would understand it.
Mr. Glanville looked down, and bit his nails in extreme confusion; but the countess, who had not forgot the language of romance, returned the compliment in a strain as heroic as hers.
The favour I have received from Fortune, said she, in bringing me to the happiness of your acquaintance, charming Arabella, is so great, that I may rationally expect some terrible misfortune will befall me: seeing that in this life our pleasures are so constantly succeeded by pains, that we hardly ever enjoy the one without suffering the other soon after.
Arabella was quite transported to hear the countess express herself in language so conformable to her own; but Mr. Glanville was greatly confounded, and began to suspect she was diverting herself with his cousin's singularities: and Sir Charles was within a little of thinking her as much out of the way as his niece.
Misfortunes, madam, said Arabella, are too often the lot of excellent persons like yourself. The sublimest among mortals both for beauty and virtue have experienced the frowns of Fate. The sufferings of the divine Statira, or Cassandra, for she bore both names, the persecutions of the incomparable Cleopatra, the distresses of the beautiful Candace, and the afflictions of the fair and generous Mandana, are proofs that the most illustrious persons in the world have felt the rage of calamity.
It must be confessed, said the countess, that all those fair princesses you have named, were for a while extremely unfortunate; yet in the catalogue of these lovely and afflicted persons you have forgot one who might with justice dispute the priority of sufferings with them all—I mean the beautiful Elisa, princess of Parthia.