The fellow seemed extremely pleased, thanked her as well as he could in his homely fashion, and desired she would be so kind as to give his duty to the other lady, and thank her also, for her part of the favours both his wife and child had received; nor had he forgot his manners so far as not to accompany the testimonies of his gratitude with a great many low scrapes, till he got quite out of the room.
After this, Sir Bazil began to grow a little pleasant with Miss Mabel concerning the motherly part she had been playing. 'You do me more honour than I deserve,' said she, laughing; 'for it was but half a child I had to take care of; so, consequently, I could but be half a mother. I am glad, however,' continued she, more seriously, 'that my little goddaughter has found a father.'
While they were talking in this manner, the old gentleman happening to come in, and hearing Sir Bazil was above with his daughter, sent to desire to speak with him in his closet.
Miss Mabel being now alone with Mr. Trueworth, thought she saw something in his countenance which very much surprized her. 'You are pensive, Sir!' said she. 'I hope the mention we have been making of Miss Betsy has given you no alarm.'—'A very great one,' answered he; 'but not on the account you may, perhaps, imagine. I have wronged that lady in the most cruel manner; and, though the injury I have done her went no farther than my own heart, yet I never can forgive myself for harbouring sentiments which, I now find, were so groundless and unjust.'
As it was not possible for Miss Mabel to comprehend the meaning of these words, she intreated him, somewhat hastily, to explain the mystery they seemed to contain: on which he made no scruple of repeating to her the substance of the letter he had received; his going down to Denham, in order to convince himself more fully; and the many circumstances which, according to all appearances, corroborated the truth of that infamous scandal.
Never was astonishment equal to that Miss Mabel was in on hearing the narrative of so monstrous a piece of villainy. 'Good God!' cried she, 'I know Miss Betsy has many enemies, who set all her actions in the worst light, and construe every thing she says and does into meanings she is ignorant of herself: but this is so impudent, so unparalleled a slander, as I could not have thought the malice of either men or devils could have invented!'
'Indeed, Madam,' said Mr. Trueworth, 'should fortune ever discover to me the author of this execrable falsehood, I know no revenge I could take that would be sufficient, both for traducing the innocence of that lady, and the imposition practised upon myself.' Miss Mabel agreed with him, that no punishment could be too bad for the inventors of such cruel aspersions; and, having a little vented her indignation on all who were capable of the like practices, 'I suppose, then,' said she, 'that it was owing to this wicked story that you desisted your visits to Miss Betsy?'
'Not altogether, Madam,' answered he: 'I had long before seen it was not in my power to inspire that lady with any sentiments of the kind that would make me happy in the married state. I loved her; but my reason combated with my passion, and got the better.'
'I understand you, Sir,' replied she; 'and though I hope, nay, believe in my soul, that poor Miss Betsy is innocent as a vestal, yet I cannot but own, that the too great gaiety of her temper, and the pride of attracting as many admirers as to have eyes to behold her, hurries her into errors, which, if persevered in, cannot but be fatal both to the peace and reputation of a husband. Where you are now fixed, you doubtless have a much better prospect of being truly happy. It is, however, a great pity, methinks,' continued this amiable lady, 'that so many rare and excellent qualities as Miss Betsy is possessed of, should all be swallowed up and lost in the nonsensical vanity of being too generally admired.'