But it was in vain that the good-natured Clara Hope remonstrated: her companions could not forbear tittering, as Betty Williams, upon Miss Warwick’s laying the blame of the mistake on her, replied in a strong Welsh accent—“I will swear almost the name was Porett or Plait, where our Miss Hodges tid always lodge in Pristol. Porett, or Plait, or Puffit, or some of her names that pekin with a p and ent with at.”
Angelina, quite overpowered, shrunk back, as Betty bawled out her vindication, and she was yet more confused, when Monsieur Richelet, the dancing-master, at this unlucky instant, came up to her, and with an elegant bow, said, “It is not difficult to see by her air, that mademoiselle dances superiorly. Mademoiselle vould she do me de plaisir—de honneur to dance one minuet?”
“Oh, if she would but dance!” whispered some of the group of young ladies.
“Excuse me, sir,” said Miss Warwick.
“Not a minuet?—den a minuet de la cour, a cotillon, or contredanse, or reel; vatever mademoiselle please vill do us honneur.”
Angelina, with a mixture of impatience and confusion, repeated, “Excuse me, sir—I am going—I interrupt—I beg I may not interrupt.”
“A coot morrow to you all, creat and small,” said Betty Williams, curtsying awkwardly at the door as she went out before Miss Warwick.
The young ladies were now diverted so much beyond the bounds of decorum, that Mrs. Porett was obliged to call them to order.
“Oh, my Araminta, what scenes have I gone through! to what derision have I exposed myself for your sake!” said our heroine to herself.
Just as she was leaving the dancing-room, she was stopped short by Betty Williams, who, with a face of terror, exclaimed, “‘Tis a poy in the hall, that I tare not pass for my lifes; he has a pasket full of pees in his hand, and I cannot apide pees, ever since one tay when I was a chilt, and was stung on the nose by a pee. The poy in the hall has a pasketful of pees, ma’am,” said Betty, with an imploring accent, to Mrs. Porett.