“Every thing tends to forward our designs with respect to this young man,” observed the old woman, seating herself in a chair opposite to her daughter, who was reclining upon the sofa.
“And yet I cannot now altogether comprehend your policy, mother,” returned Perdita.
“In which particular point, my child?” demanded the vile parent.
“Respecting the nature of the connexion which is to subsist between myself and Charles,” said Perdita. “It was all very well for me to calculate upon being his mistress before we were aware that he is in reality a Viscount, and must be an Earl: but since you succeeded so nicely in extracting those revelations from him this morning, why should we not secure so glorious a prize by a means more durable and powerful than mere sophistry and the love which he bears me? Consider, mother, how instantaneously he took a fancy to me; and believe me when I assure you that coolness will follow as rapidly, after full satiety, on his part.”
“Silly girl! thou art thyself in love with him!” cried Mrs. Fitzhardinge, in a tone of vexation.
“Yes—more than half: I acknowledge it,” returned Perdita, coolly.
“And yet—but a few days ago you assured me that you could not chain yourself to one individual with any hope of being faithful to him,—that love was a passion which would never obtain over you that influence which it so often exercised over the weak, the simple-minded, and the infatuated.”
“It is perfectly true, mother, that I said all which your memory has so faithfully treasured up, and your lips so accurately repeated,” said Perdita, still speaking without excitement. “But then, my dear mother,” she added, almost satirically—no, almost jeeringly, as if diverting herself with her parent’s evident vexation,—“then, you know, I had not seen Charles Hatfield.”
“And I told you not to be too confident on that point to which we are alluding,” cried Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “My dear Perdita, renounce all ideas of marriage with this young man: indeed, you have compromised yourself too deeply in your denunciations of the marriage-tie to be able to recall your sentiments on that head.”
“Not at all,” said Perdita, authoritatively. “In the same way that I induced Charles to accede to my proposals, and even fall into my views—so can I, in a very short space, and by means of other sophistry, convince him that I had merely been playing a part to test the value of his affection——”