I did not see Meyler again till the following evening at the opera, when, being both tired of shamming more indifference than we really felt, we went home together. Meyler was looking remarkably handsome and well. He told me that Lord Ebrington was in Paris, and had promised to present him at court the next day.
"What do you think of his lordship?" I inquired.
"He is one of the handsomest, most sensible, and distinguished looking young noblemen in Europe," Meyler replied.
"Very well, I am glad you like him, and I am glad he is here; because, if you treat me too ill, or again mortify me by saying you are sick of my constancy, and wish nobody was constant in the world, alors, vois tu, on peut se consoler."
"Point du tout," answered Meyler, "for, of course, if Lord Ebrington had any fancy for you he would prove it. I am not such a vain fool as to believe any woman breathing would have me, or remain an hour with me, if she could be even tolerated by Lord Ebrington."
"Now Meyler, pray don't go out of your way to provoke me. You cannot, nobody can, or ever did imagine I would stay with a man whom I disliked, merely for his money: and further, what pleasure do you find in striving to wound and humble my vanity thus, as if I was and had been constant to you from necessity alone?"
"I did not say you could not get others. I know to the contrary. I only said what I firmly believe, which is that, were you, this very night, to send a note to Lord Ebrington, inviting him to your bed even, he would not come."
Thus did this provoking creature delight in teasing me, and the next half-hour he would seem passionately devoted to me.
For the first month, Meyler went everywhere, and I led a very gay life: that is, with regard to going every night to parties, masquerades, balls, and other amusements. One day, a friend of Meyler's, Bradshaw, told me that Meyler led a most dissipated life, and made up to at least half a dozen Frenchwomen in a week. The idea had not struck me with such force of truth before, and I was suddenly oppressed with very low spirits; so writing an excuse to the party where I was expected to sup, I sat down at my window to watch the door of Meyler's hotel, which was opposite to mine, for the arrival of his well-known, little, elegant chariot. The moment it caught my eye, I despatched my servant with a note begging him to come over to me immediately. He obeyed my summons in very ill humour, declaring that I made him feel as though he had a net thrown over him, and that it was impossible to be happy without perfect liberty. This harshness to one like me, who had been hitherto so spoiled and indulged, affected me with the deepest melancholy. I felt it the more too from being in a foreign country. Meyler had wounded my pride in a way I should have resented at another moment; but I was in Paris alone, my mother and her family not having yet joined me. Meyler was my only friend, and, but for Meyler, I might probably have been now married to Worcester, whose tender care of me and devoted attentions could scarcely be understood or described.
"Meyler," said I, almost in tears, "I wish all the world to enjoy perfect liberty, and you must admit that, generally speaking, it has been my request that you only remain with me while my society is pleasant to you; but this night I am unwell, and my spirits are greatly depressed by what Mr. Bradshaw has told me. You know I am not a likely person to wear the willow, or be long unhappy, if you have ceased to prefer me to all other women; but, this night I would entreat, and consider it as a favour, if you would remain with me for an hour."