The History of Miss Betsy Thoughtless

by Eliza Fowler Haywood

'Love various minds does variously inspire;
He stirs in gentle natures gentle fire,
Like that of incense on the altar laid;
But raging flames tempestuous souls invade.
A fire which every windy passion blows;
With pride it mounts, and with revenge it glows.'

Miss Flora was not of a temper, either to bear the pangs of hopeless love in silent grief, or to give way too readily to despair. In spite of the indifference she found herself treated with by Mr. Trueworth, she was not without hope, that if she could by any means occasion a disunion between him and Miss Betsy, he would then be brought to cast his eyes on her, and return her flame with some degree of ardency.

It was for this end she had taken so much pains in endeavouring to persuade Miss Betsy either to write, or suffer her to go, to Mr. Staple, in order, as she pretended, to undeceive that gentleman in his opinion, that she was in love with Mr. Trueworth; but her intentions, in reality, were to make him believe that he himself was the favoured person, and had much the advantage over his rival in the affections of his mistress. This she doubted not, would make him quit his resolution of going into the country, and encourage him to renew his courtship with the same fervency as ever. The pride she knew Miss Betsy took in a multiplicity of lovers, and the equality with which she had carried herself between him and Mr. Trueworth, and which probably she would continue, seemed to afford her a fair prospect of giving Mr. Trueworth so much cause of discontent, as to make him break off with a woman who, after what had passed, made no distinction between him and the person he had twice vanquished in the field. She knew it would, at least, create a great deal of perplexity among them, and delay, if not totally prevent, the completion of what she so much dreaded.

But this scheme being rendered abortive, by the seasonable discovery Miss Betsy had made of her perfidiousness, she set her wits to work for some other new invention; and, believing that Miss Betsy's pride would immediately take fire on the least suspicion of any insult being offered, either to her beauty or reputation, procured an agent to write the above inserted letter, the effect of which has already been shewn.

This disappointment was the more grievous to her, as she had so little expected it: she broke the sticks of her fan, tore every thing came in her way, flew about the room like a princess in a tragedy; wanting the means of venting the rage she was possessed of in great things, she exercised it in small. A fine petticoat of Miss Betsy's happening to hang on the back of a chair, she threw a standish of ink upon it, as if by accident; and it was no breach of charity to believe, would have served the owner in a much worse manner, if her power had been equal to her will, and she could have done it without danger to herself.

To add to the fury and distraction of her mind, continuing still in her chamber, and happening to be pretty near the window, she saw Miss Betsy, Miss Mabel, and Mr. Trueworth, pass by in a landau, that gentleman having, it seems, invited these ladies on a party of pleasure: 'You shall not long enjoy this satisfaction,' cried she to herself, 'if it be in human wit to separate you!' But at this sight, the turbulent passions of her soul becoming more outrageous, 'O may the machine that conveys you be thrown from off its wheels!' pursued she. 'May the wine you drink be poisoned! May the first morsel you attempt to swallow, mistake its way, and choak you in the passage!'

Thus did she rave, not like one possessed with seven, but seven thousand fiends; and had perhaps remained in this wild way till her brain had been absolutely turned, if Lady Mellasin, having a great deal of company, had not positively commanded her to come down, after having sent several times in more mild terms to let her know what friends were there.

It was some days before the unhappy, and more wicked, Miss Flora could recollect her scattered senses enough for the contrivance of any farther mischief: but those evil spirits, to which she had yielded but too much the mastery of her heart, and all its faculties, at length inspired her with, and enabled her in the execution of, a design of the most barbarous kind, and which for a time she saw had success even beyond her most sanguine expectations.

But while she was ruminating on projects, which had neither virtue nor generosity for their patrons, Miss Betsy passed her days in that chearfulness which is the constant companion of uncorrupted innocence, and a mind uninfluenced by any tempestuous passions; but as it is natural, even to the sweetest tempers, to take pleasure in the mortification of those who have endeavoured to injure us without cause given on our parts, she could not forbear being highly diverted to see the pains Miss Flora took to conceal the inward disturbance of her soul: the awkward excuses she made for the damage done her petticoat, gave her more satisfaction than she should have felt vexation for the spoiling the best thing she had in the world.