It is certain therefore, madam, added the countess with a smile, that what was virtue in those days, is vice in ours: and to form a hero according to our notions of them at present, it is necessary to give him qualities very different from Oroondates.
The secret charm in the countenance, voice, and manner of the countess, joined to the force of her reasoning, could not fail of making some impression on the mind of Arabella; but it was such an impression as came far short of conviction. She was surprised, embarrassed, perplexed, but not convinced. Heroism, romantic heroism, was deeply rooted in her heart; it was her habit of thinking, a principle imbibed from education. She could not separate her ideas of glory, virtue, courage, generosity, and honour, from the false representations of them in the actions of Oroondates, Juba, Artaxerxes, and the rest of the imaginary heroes. The countess's discourse had raised a kind of tumult in her thoughts, which gave an air of perplexity to her lovely face, and made that lady apprehensive she had gone too far, and lost that ground in her esteem, which she had endeavoured to acquire by a conformity to some of her notions and language. In this, however, she was mistaken; Arabella felt a tenderness for her that had already the force of a long contracted friendship, and an esteem little less than veneration.
When the countess took leave, the professions of Arabella, though delivered in the language of romance, were very sincere and affecting, and were returned with an equal degree of tenderness by the countess, who had conceived a more than ordinary affection for her.
Mr. Glanville, who could have almost worshipped the countess for the generous design he saw she had entertained, took an opportunity as he handed her to her chair, to entreat in a manner as earnest as polite, that she would continue the happiness of her acquaintance to his cousin; which, with a smile of mingled dignity and sweetness, she assured him of.
[Chapter VIII.]
Which concludes book the eighth.
Mr. Glanville at his return to the dining-room, finding Arabella retired, told his father in a rapture of joy, that the charming countess would certainly make a convert of Lady Bella.
Methinks, said the baronet, she has as strange whims in her head as my niece. Ad's-heart, what a deal of stuff did she talk about! A parcel of heroes as she calls them, with confounded hard names—In my mind, she is more likely to make Lady Bella worse than better.