“But why, my dear Madam, why all this haste? why may we not be
allowed a
little longer time?”
“I could give you a thousand reasons,” answered she, “but that I
am tolerably
certain two or three will be more than you can controvert, even with
all the logic of genuine coquetry. In the first place, you doubtless
wish to quit the house of Mrs. Beaumont: to whose, then, can you with
such propriety remove as to Lord Orville’s?”
“Surely, Madam,” cried I, “I am not more destitute now than when
I thought
myself an orphan.”
“Your father, my dear,” answered she, “is willing to save the
little impostor
as much of the mortification of her disgrace as is in his power;
now, if you immediately take her place, according to your right,
as Miss Belmont, why, not all that either of you can do for her,
will prevent her being eternally stigmatized as the bantling of Dame
Green, wash-woman and wet nurse, of Berry Hill, Dorsetshire. Now such
a genealogy will not be very flattering, even to Mr. Macartney, who,
all-dismal as he is, you will find by no means wanting in pride and
self-consequence.”
“For the universe,” interrupted I, “I would not be accessary to the
degradation you mention; but surely, Madam, I may return to Berry
Hill?”
“By no means,” said she; “for though compassion may make us wish to
save the
poor girl the confusion of an immediate and public fall, yet justice
demands you should appear henceforward in no other light than that
of Sir John Belmont’s daughter. Besides, between friends, I, who know
the world, can see that half this prodigious delicacy for the little
usurper is the mere result of self-interest; for, while her affairs
are hushed up, Sir John’s, you know, are kept from being brought
further to light. Now the double marriage we have projected obviates
all rational objections. Sir John will give you immediately L.30,000;
all settlements, and so forth, will be made for you in the name of
Evelina Belmont:-Mr. Macartney will at the same time take poor Polly
Green; and yet, at first, it will only be generally known that a
daughter of Sir John Belmont is married.”
In this manner, though she did not convince me, yet the quickness
of her
arguments silenced and perplexed me. I enquired, however, if I might
not be permitted to again see my father, or whether I must regard
myself as banished his presence for ever?
“My dear,” said she, “he does not know you: he concludes that you
have been
brought up to detest him; and therefore he is rather prepared to
dread than to love you.”
This answer made me very unhappy: I wished, most impatiently, to
remove his
prejudice, and endeavour, by dutiful assiduity, to engage his kindness;
yet knew not how to propose seeing him, while conscious he wished to
avoid me.
This evening, as soon as the company was engaged with cards,
Lord Orville
exerted his utmost eloquence to reconcile me to this hasty plan;
but how was I startled when he told me that next Tuesday was the day
appointed by my father to be the most important of my life!