Euphemia, supposing she had fainted, flew to the top of the stairs, and shrieking violently, stood wringing her hands, until Diana and Lady Dundas, followed by several gentlemen, hastened out of the saloon and demanded what was the matter? As Euphemia pointed to Miss Beaufort's dressing-room, she staggered, and sinking into the arms of Lord Elesmere, fell into the most outrageous hysterics. The marquis, who had just dropped in on his return from St. James's, was so afraid of the agitated lady's tearing his point-lace ruffles, that, in almost as trembling a state as herself, he gladly shuffled her into the hands of her maid; and scampering down stairs, as if all Bedlam were at his heels, sprung into his vis-à-vis, and drove off like lightning.
When Miss Beaufort recovered her scattered senses, and beheld this influx of persons entering her room, she tried to dispel her confusion, and rising gently from her seat, while supporting herself on the arm of Miss Dorothy's maid, thanked the company for their attention and withdrew into her chamber.
Meanwhile, Euphemia, who had been carried down into the saloon, thought it time to raise her lily head and utter a few incoherent words. The instant they were breathed, Miss Dundas and Mr. Lascelles, in one voice, demanded what was the matter?
"Has not Mary told you?" returned her sister, languidly opening her eyes.
"No," answered Lascelles, rubbing his hands with delighted curiosity; "come, let us have it."
Euphemia, pleased at this, and loving mystery with all her heart, waved her hand solemnly, and in an awful tone replied, "Then it passes not my lips."
"What, Phemy!" cried he, "you want us to believe you have seen a ghost? But you forget, they don't walk at midday."
"Believe what you like," returned she, with an air of consequential contempt; "I am satisfied to keep the secret."
Miss Dundas burst into a provoking laugh; and calling her the most incorrigible little idiot in the world, encouraged Lascelles to fool her to the top of his bent. Determining to gratify his spleen, if he could not satisfy his curiosity, this witless coxcomb continued the whole day in Harley Street, for the mere pleasure of tormenting Euphemia. From the dinner hour until twelve at night, neither his drowsy fancy nor wakeful malice could find one other weapon of assault than the stale jokes of mysterious chambers, lovers incognito, or the silly addition of two Cupid-struck sweeps popping down the chimney to pay their addresses to the fair friends. Diana talked of Jupiter with his thunder; and patting her sister under the chin, added, "I cannot doubt that Miss Beaufort is the favored Semelé; but, my dear, you over-acted your character? As confidant, a few tears were enough when your lady fainted." During these attacks, Euphemia reclined pompously on a sofa, and not deigning a reply, repelled them with much conceit and haughtiness.
Miss Beaufort remained above an hour alone in her chamber before she ventured to go near her aunt. Hurt to the soul that the idle folly of Euphemia should have aroused a terror which had completely unveiled to the eyes of that inconsiderate girl the empire which Thaddeus held over her fate, Mary, overwhelmed with shame, and arraigning her easy credulity, threw herself on her bed.