Arabella, who had walked as fast as her legs would carry her, got home before Lucy could overtake her, and retiring to her chamber, gave way to a fresh burst of grief, and bewailed the infidelity of Glanville in terms befitting a Clelia or Mandana.
As soon as she saw Lucy enter, she started from her chair with great emotion.
Thou comest, said she, I know, to intercede for that ungrateful man, whose infidelity I am weak enough to lament; but open not thy mouth, I charge thee, in his defence.
No, indeed, madam, said Lucy.
Nor bring me any account of his tears, his desperation, or his despair, said Arabella, since questionless he will feign them all to deceive me.
Here Glanville, who had watched Lucy's coming, and had followed her into Arabella's apartment, appeared at the door.
Oh Heavens! cried Arabella, lifting up her fine eyes, can it be that this disloyal man, unawed by the discovery of his guilt, again presumes to approach me!——
Dearest cousin, said Glanville, what is the meaning of all this?—How have I disobliged you?—What is my offence? I beseech you, tell me.
Ask the inconstant Ariamenes[1], replied Arabella, the offence of the ungrateful Glanville. The betrayer of Cynecia can best answer that question to the deceiver of Arabella; and the guilt of the one can only be compared to the crimes of the other.
Good God! interrupted Mr. Glanville, fretting excessively, what am I to understand by all this? On my soul, madam, I don't know the meaning of one word you say.