We are not, therefore, ashamed to say, that our heroine now pursued the dictates of the above-mentioned right honourable philosopher. As she was perfectly satisfied then, that Lady Bellaston was ignorant of the person of Jones, so she determined to keep her in that ignorance, though at the expense of a little fibbing.
Jones had not been long gone, before Lady Bellaston cryed, “Upon my word, a good pretty young fellow; I wonder who he is; for I don't remember ever to have seen his face before.”
“Nor I neither, madam,” cries Sophia. “I must say he behaved very handsomely in relation to my note.”
“Yes; and he is a very handsome fellow,” said the lady: “don't you think so?”
“I did not take much notice of him,” answered Sophia, “but I thought he seemed rather awkward, and ungenteel than otherwise.”
“You are extremely right,” cries Lady Bellaston: “you may see, by his manner, that he hath not kept good company. Nay, notwithstanding his returning your note, and refusing the reward, I almost question whether he is a gentleman.——I have always observed there is a something in persons well born, which others can never acquire.——I think I will give orders not to be at home to him.”
“Nay, sure, madam,” answered Sophia, “one can't suspect after what he hath done;—besides, if your ladyship observed him, there was an elegance in his discourse, a delicacy, a prettiness of expression that, that——”
“I confess,” said Lady Bellaston, “the fellow hath words——And indeed, Sophia, you must forgive me, indeed you must.”
“I forgive your ladyship!” said Sophia.
“Yes, indeed you must,” answered she, laughing; “for I had a horrible suspicion when I first came into the room——I vow you must forgive it; but I suspected it was Mr Jones himself.”