Lady Melford replied, the circle of her acquaintance was rather confined;—and that her short residences at a time in town left her an incompetent judge: "but, my dear," she added, "the virtuous principles instilled into you by your excellent father, joined to the innate goodness of your heart, must guide you through the warfare of life. Never for one moment listen to the seductive voice of folly, whether its advocate be man or woman.—If a man is profuse in flattery, believe him an insidious betrayer, who only watches a favourable moment to ruin your peace of mind for ever. Suffer no one to lessen your husband in your esteem: no one will attempt it, but from sinister views; disappoint all such, either by grave remonstrances or lively sallies. Perhaps some will officiously bring you informations of the supposed infidelity of your husband, in hopes they may induce you to take a fashionable revenge.—Labour to convince such, how you detest all informers; speak of your confidence in him,—and that nothing shall persuade you but that he acts as he ought. But, since the heart of man naturally loves variety, and, from the depravity of the age, indulgences, which I call criminal, are allowed to them, Sir William may not pay that strict obedience to his part of the marriage contract as he ought; remember, my dear, his conduct can never exculpate any breach in your's. Gentleness and complacency on your part are the only weapons you should prove to any little irregularity on his. By such behaviour, I doubt not, you will be happy, as you will deserve to be so."
Ah! my dear Louisa, what a loss shall I have in this venerable monitress! I will treasure up her excellent advice, and hope to reap the benefit of it.
If I dislike Lady Besford, I think I have more reason to be displeased with Lady Anne Parker.—She has more artifice, and is consequently a more dangerous companion. She has more than once given hints of the freedoms which Sir William allows in himself.—The other night at the opera she pointed out one of the dancers, and assured me, "Sir William was much envied for having subdued the virtue of that girl. That," continued she, "was her vis à vis that you admired this morning; she lives in great taste; I suppose her allowance is superb." It is quite the ton to keep opera-girls, though, perhaps, the men who support them never pay them a visit.—I therefore concluded this affair was one of that sort. Such creatures can never deprive me of my husband's heart, and I should be very weak to be uneasy about such connexions.
Last night, however, a circumstance happened, which, I own, touched my heart more sensibly. Lady Anne insisted on my accompanying her to the opera. Sir William dined out; and, as our party was sudden, knew not of my intention of being there. Towards the end of the opera, I observed my husband in one of the upper-boxes, with a very elegant-looking woman, dressed in the genteelest taste, to whom he appeared very assiduous.—"There is Sir William," said I.—"Yes," said Lady Anne, "but I dare say, he did not expect to see you here."
"Possibly not," I answered. A little female curiosity urged me to ask, if she knew who that lady was? She smiled, and answered, "she believed she did." A very favourite air being then singing, I dropped the conversation, though I could not help now and then stealing a look at my husband. I was convinced he must see and know me, as my situation in the house was very conspicuous; but I thought he seemed industriously to avoid meeting my eyes.—The opera being ended, we adjourned to the coffee-room; and, having missed Sir William a little time before, naturally expected to see him there; as it is customary for all the company to assemble there previous to their going to their carriages.
A great number of people soon joined us. Baron Ton-hausen had just handed me a glass of orgeat; and was chatting in an agreeable manner, when Lord Biddulph came up. "Lady Stanley," said he, with an air of surprize, "I thought I saw you this moment in Sir William's chariot. I little expected the happiness of meeting you here."
"You saw Sir William, my Lord, I believe," said Lady Anne; "but as to the Lady, you are mistaken—though I should have supposed you might have recognized your old friend Lucy Gardiner; they were together in one of the boxes.—Sly wretch! he thought we did not see him."
"Oh! you ladies have such penetrating eyes," replied his Lordship, "that we poor men—and especially the married ones, ought to be careful how we conduct ourselves. But, my dear Lady Stanley, how have you been entertained? Was not Rauzzini exquisite?"
"Can you ask how her Ladyship has been amused, when you have just informed her, her Caro Sposo was seen with a favourite Sultana?"
"Pshaw!" said his Lordship, "there is nothing in that—tout la mode de François. The conduct of an husband can not discompose a Lady of sense. What says the lovely Lady Stanley?"